


[2] Thrilling Adventures of Eona

by Lothirielswan



Series: Adventures of Azeroth [2]
Category: World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Action, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-01-05 18:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 47,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothirielswan/pseuds/Lothirielswan
Summary: “So this is Horde and Alliance: the therapy sessions?”Azeroth holds its breath against the tides of tension. Garrosh Hellscream is no more, the Legion is banished, and now the world lies in wait for the next chapter. In a vain attempt to preserve the peace, the mighty leaders of Azeroth have been summoned to Pandaria. Horde and Alliance rulers alike attend to secure Azeroth’s salvation. Accept this quest and join Eona Strider and the mighty characters of Warcraft for the adventure of a lifetime![In order to keep this work SPOILER-FREE of Warcraft content, it will NOT take place during any of Warcraft's expansions. These mighty warriors will embark on ORIGINAL ADVENTURES created by me! Please enjoy c:]





	1. Sneak Peak

~Eona Strider, Ruins of Gilneas~

Genn Greymane’s fluffy, bristling form towered over me. “You smell.”

I scoffed at the white-furred worgen. “I think you mean your yard—by the way, you have some mowing to do.”

“Your Majesty, can I kill her? Or you can have the honors,” Genn’s deep voice addressed the King of Stormwind.

“Paws off, Greymane. She’s one of ours,” The white-haired blood elf stood next to Halduron, staring at Genn wearily. The party of blood elves appeared in a half circle on the outskirts of the treeline.

It was probably the wrong time, but I felt it was necessary to ask. “I'm sorry, who are you again?”

Half of the elves gaped at me. Halduron was mildly amused. The bottom half of Rommath’s face was covered, but his eyes squinted at me like an impossible pair of notes to play.

“Regent Lord of Quel’Thalas…?” Halduron asked as he motioned towards the one-eyed elf.

“Doesn't ring a bell.” I replied.

“Leader of the blood elves?”

“Sorry. Got nothing.”

“You’ve never heard of _Lor’themar Theron_ in your life?” Rommath’s glare was lethal.

_Lor’themar! Aha!_

“Oh yeah. Sylvanas bosses you around all the time...I’m sorry, you live a hard life. You don’t deserve this,” I replied. Halduron nearly burst into tears as he tried not to cry from silent laughter.

“You too?” Genn chimed in. Genn’s worgen followers emerged from the forest, mixed with some Stormwind guards.

Lor’themar sighed. “There are many reasons I drink. Sylvanas is one of them.”

“Women do rule the world,” Genn shot a suspicious glance my way.

“It's a wonderful world,” Anduin added.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hello Awesome Adventurers and welcome back! I can't wait for this next book, we've got a ton of cool stuff planned. I don't want to spoil too much for you guys, but I will tell you that this story line will be written by me: this will not take place during one of Warcraft's expansions or events. That being said, I'm not doing this out of injustice to Warcraft's writers, but to have more power over the story, keep it more interesting for you, and so you don't read spoilers here about what happens in Warcraft's timeline. I know it's a little confusing, but I promise it'll be fun and hopefully to your benefit. Thank you so much for checking this out! Stay tuned for the first chapter on Friday, love, fortune and glory to you!!


	2. "The Freckle Apocalypse" (Epoch I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epoch I: "Guilt and Gilneas"
> 
> Quest Objective: Don't be Kalec.

~Eona Strider, Ruins of Gilneas~

A screech rang out across the Blackwald, silencing the undead. Every head turned and stared as the crow from earlier was swallowed up by darkness. Two eerie dots of red took its place. The red dots continued to pop up like a ghost town brought back to life at night.

The shadows took forms as they dashed out and descended upon us.

_Sylvanas was wrong: this isn't pineapple at all. These are cranberries of death._

“GENN! YOU NEED AN EXTERMINATOR!”

 

~Yesterday, Kun-Lai Summit~

“Welcome to the summit.” Taran Zhu, Lord of the Shado-Pan, stood in the center of the Temple of the White Tiger. His voice carried across the wide-domed walls to address the most powerful people of Azeroth.

 _It's been a long time since I've been in this room._ I glanced around the dark u-shaped table where race leaders from Kalimdor to the Eastern Kingdoms sat side by side. I was just a consultant...a consultant that killed grumpy dragons, cold couch potatoes, and ferocious bunnies.

“This is the second time such an audience has been summoned to Pandaria, the first being for Garrosh Hellscream’s trial.” Taran Zhu’s deep voice was repeated against the dark stone walls like a mantra. Uneasy glances were tossed around the room at the mention of Garrosh. _That was long ago too. Stars, I'm old._ “But we do not join now to judge or demand justice. We come together for peace—for all of Azeroth.”

“So this is Horde and Alliance: the therapy sessions?” I whispered to Wrathion on my left, and Khadgar on my right. Wrathion, who also went by the theatrical title of the Black Prince, lightly stroked his smirking lips with a golden talon. Khadgar, one of the most respected mages on Azeroth, clutched the arms of his chair to keep his chuckle mute. I knew both of them much longer than the other members present, and neither of us lead an army nor a kingdom (except for Wrath and his black market assassins).

Khadgar bowed a head of gray hair. His appearance was ancient due to an aging spell cast decades ago, but there was a youthful glimmer in his eyes as he muttered, “I like to think of it as marriage counseling.”

I smirked. Wrath let out a dramatic sigh beside me, alarming his two bodyguards behind his seat, Left and Right. His silky voice sounded like the rustle of fabric when whispering, “If I wanted family drama, I would’ve gone with you to Northrend, _sister_. Speaking of family, Kalec is missing again. It's like he's trying to be invisible.”

“What?” I scanned the crowd for my second brotherly figure, finding his head of blue hair absent among the world leaders. _This isn't the first time. It better not be for the reason I think…_

Taran Zhu’s voice cut off my concern as his honey-colored eyes poked out from beneath his straw hat. “These meetings will stand as a form of communication for Horde and Alliance—”

“Maybe Taran Zhu’s taking on the motherly role that the Alliance and Horde never had. So many masculine father-son relationships,” My nose scrunched up as I recalled history on both sides full of testosterone. _Speaking of testosterone, I have to meet up with Jaina and Sylvanas later to replenish our estrogen levels over drinks._

“—and we can work together to solve the problems of Azeroth—”

“Community service?” Khadgar’s bushy white eyebrows furrowed. His voice was strong, but there was an underlying trill to it—almost like he was humming.

While Khadgar was powerful, he couldn't save me from boredom. Taran Zhu’s speech came and went like a goblin’s weak radio signal. Alliance and Horde leaders were separated in clusters around the room, mostly depending on faction. I smiled at Halduron, the Ranger-General of Silvermoon. I had no idea who the white-haired blood elf was sitting next to him, so my interest moved a couple seats over. Trade Prince Gallywix stealthily emptied a silver flask into his goblet when Taran Zhu wasn't looking. Tyrande Whisperwind looked the most dedicated to the meeting...as dedicated as she could be when her husband, Malfurion Stormrage, snored next to her.

My gaze drifted a little farther and stopped. _Is that…? After so long?_

“Are you having a staring contest with King Anduin Wrynn?” Khadgar interrupted my puzzlement.

“King?” I blurted. People nearby glanced our way. Khadgar smirked at my bluntness.

“Mmm.” He hummed his confirmation.

I turned back, across the isle to the other side of the room. Between the colossal Prophet Velen and the irritated Genn Greymane sat Anduin Wrynn.

_Andy..._

He looked different from when I saw him last. I couldn't tell if he had grown larger or if it was just the new layers of plate armor he adorned. It seemed like an odd choice for him. His blond hair had grown longer—most of it was gathered in a ponytail behind his head, but I thought the way his bangs framed his face was cute.

“My my…” I looked to the left and found Wrath staring in the same direction I just was. He admired Andy from afar making the most ridiculous facial expressions as he did so (and he made me silently hope I hadn't done the same). He snapped out of his dreamy state, talons gliding up to the white marshmallow on his head, “Quick, Eona! How’s my turban?”

“I take it you two—erm, _three_ had history,” Khadgar inquired as he studied two dragons becoming unraveled by a single presence across the chamber.

Wrathion’s earrings clinked like chimes as his head tilted slightly to the side. “There was some chemistry between us.”

My eyebrows furrowed. Hand under my chin, I looked over at my brother, “Chemistry?”

“Why yes. I'm very ravishing, sister.”

“Is it possible that we’re remembering two different things?” I felt my long ears perk up, parting my hair on the sides.

“Don't feel invisible, Eona—or like Kalec, I should say.” Wrath replied with a smirk. “You were the third wheel in our very sensual relationship, but there is someone out there for you.”

I decided not to comment and simply shook my head as I looked away. With little surprise, my stare landed back on Anduin.

_It's been at least four years—wow, I really am old. Back when I was running from Garrosh after finding out a dirty secret of his, I traveled across Pandaria with Andy. I got to know him very well and our friendship blossomed into a sweet, innocent romance. But it was so long ago, and I was a lot younger than how I feel now._

Despite the new brute-like armor, Anduin sat up straight and listened politely. He had obviously changed—not just with his looks, but with his title. I heard of his father’s death during the most recent Legion invasion and sent him my condolences, but I didn’t know if they were received—I never got an answer. There was an air of respect to him, but there was still a familiar warmth in his eyes.

And those two aquamarine orbs caught mine.

I smiled shyly and added a subtle wave. My cheeks burned as a wide grin crossed Andy’s face. Wrathion leaned into my personal space, reeking of cinnamon and other arousing spices as he winked at the King. I pushed him off as Khadgar hummed softly beside me.

“Anduin is trustworthy, polite. A noble good influence,” Khadgar mused as he sat up. His robes of sapphire and leather shifted as he moved.

“Don't tell me you’re going all _Dadgar_ on me,” I quietly teased. “This isn't Outland. I'm not a baby anymore—unlike Wrath.”

“I am not a child!” Wrathion seethed, teeth clenched at this particular description of him that he deeply despised.

“Says the person who tried to bite my _ears_ yesterday.”

“But they’re so peculiar…” Wrath raised one embroidered talon to my long ears. I lightly slapped it away, earning myself hard glares from Left and Right.

Taran Zhu’s speech finally came to an end, and another speaker took over. The ruler of Gilneas stood from his chair as a pillar of white fur. Genn focused on the Shado-Pan leader and said, “I must ask what is to become of my home, Gilneas, and how long this... _summit_ is meant to last.”

Sylvanas’ crimson eyes flickered a few seats down.

“Gilneas has a complicated history, and the land has suffered much.” Taran Zhu remarked. He wasn't wrong—the once unbreakable nation withstood a rebellion, invasion of worgen, and waves of Forsaken. The Gilneans might’ve been part of the Alliance, but that didn't stop me from admiring their stamina.

“To appease all parties involved, I suggest to leave the land alone and let it heal from it's wounds. Any objections?” After no one spoke up, Taran Zhu continued. “As for your other question, the summit will be active as long as it is needed.”

Khadgar and I leaned our heads together. “Did we just get assigned detention?”

“I thought my scholarly days are over. Now I have to hide my mana buns from Sylvanas at lunch hour.”

Taran Zhu dismissed the leaders of Azeroth like a bunch of grumpy children assigned last minute homework. Khadgar continued talking beside me, but my interest lay somewhere else. My vision weaved between those who stood up, eager to be free of the stiff wooden chairs. I caught Andy’s gaze.

He smiled and tilted his head to the side, towards one of the exits. I nodded.

“—Would you join me for tea later, Eona?” Khadgar offered as he gruffly rose from his chair. He was about to offer me a hand when Wrath beat him to it and lifted me up effortlessly. I wasn't one for such dainty formalities, but I would play along with Wrath’s theatrical behavior if it pleased him. It was his way of showing empathy, and I tried to encourage sentiment from him as much as possible. I kissed Wrathion’s cheek before he left the chamber, followed by his devoted assassins.

“That sounds lovely, but I was going to speak with one of the attendants I recognized,” I replied.

Khadgar pulled me in for a light embrace and mumbled into my hair, “Tell Anduin I say hello.”

I shoved him off. “Shut up...I’ll tell him.”

I treaded away from Khadgar’s entertained expression and darted through the clusters of people towards the exit. Not many lingered outside in the cold, too concerned with leaving Pandaria through portals. I entered the brisk atmosphere, high up in the mountains, where rope bridges lead over steep falls. The grass not consumed by snow was a fragile yellow that whistled in the wind. While I had a view that went on for miles, I focused on the person in front of me.

“Andy?”

When Anduin turned, the same jubilant grin from earlier returned. “Eona!”

Andy scooped me up in his arms for a metal hug. I still couldn't decide how much he grew with the cool plate armor beneath my fingers. I hadn't changed much in appearance since I last saw him—same copper hair, tanned pink skin and dark clothes. The only difference was the freckle apocalypse that coated my skin with tiny amber dots.

I ignored the icy chill from the iron as I pulled back, smiling at his face. I lightly knocked on the golden chestplate of the armor embroidered with a lion’s crest and said, “Look at you, you’re so huge!”

“It's been so long,” Andy replied. My excitement froze in my veins as Anduin carefully lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on my knuckles.

It was a formal, harmless gesture, but the action left me a little stunned. Uncertainty began to drip from each breath.

To my relief, Andy broke the ice. “I’ve missed you...how are things? You and Wrath seem inseparable as always.”

_He has no idea—that lovable moron followed me through time and space to Draenor._

I laughed, “We’re not plotting anything, I promise you. I missed you too...things are interesting, as always.”

“Everything about you is interesting,” Andy replied, starting to chisel a smile on my face that couldn't be rubbed off. “I’d love to hear about it.”

“As long as I have the honor of listening to you, _Your Majesty_.” I winked.

Anduin’s old cough-hiding trick resurfaced to hide a blooming red flush across his face. And so I walked and talked next to the ray of sunlight that had been gone for so long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hey Awesome Adventurers!! I'm so excited to continue the story. I know I mentioned that I would be taking over the timeline now, so if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask! This is supposed to take place shortly after the Legion expansion as tensions are rising between factions again. I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter c: more to come! Love, fortune and glory to you!!


	3. "My Adult Sanctuary"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Become the pawn of the Warchief Banshee Queen.

“Leave Gilneas alone? I called dibs on that peninsula years ago!”

Jaina’s eyes narrowed. “Sylvanas, just because you poisoned the land and terrorized the natives doesn't mean you’re entitled to it.”

Both women sat across from me, looking out from the top platform of the pandaren inn. The intense aroma of beer mixed with the fresh scent of bamboo surrounded the small village.

Sylvanas scowled and turned her foul gaze on our breathtaking view from the terrace. I stirred my mug of crushed fruits with a bamboo straw as I studied Jaina.

“Jain?”

“Mmm?” She tucked her white-blonde bangs back that weren't entwined in her tightly-woven braid.

“Have you spoken to Kalecgos lately?” I asked innocently.

“Who?” Sylvanas asked.

_Hmm. Maybe Wrath is right about Kalec’s obscurity._

“No...why?” Jaina’s pearl-white eyebrows scrunched together.

_They’ve been broken up for a while now, but I’ve noticed Kalec’s never been in the same room as her since. It could be related._

“Actually, I haven't seen him at all. Is he alright?” Jaina asked.

I leaned my elbows on the wooden counter. “He's my brother, so no. You’re not too upset with him after everything, are you?”

“Course not. Why would I be?”

_So he's the delusional one. I can work with that._

I shook my head as a breeze tugged the ends of my hair back. “You wouldn't. It's stupid, forgive me.”

Jaina’s attention drew to Sylvanas beside her who was silent like the...nevermind. “Usually I'm the one that ices out a room—no pun intended. Is something wrong, Sylvanas?”

Sylvanas finally met our gazes with her violet hood still shrouding most of her facial expression. Her voice, however, deceived her with it's hoarse irritation. “Yes, something is wrong. With this _table_. I don't come here to ask of men and people’s feelings. If I wanted that, I’d spend a day with Lor’themar.”

Jaina was more offended by this statement than I was. I had worked with Sylvanas more, so I was immune to the...best left unsaid. Hiding an annoyed expression (sort of), Jaina stood abruptly from the table. “I’ll go get refills.”

As I struggled to hold my mug tight, she jerked it out of my grasp and ran away steaming. I slumped forward, missing my crushed fruits mixed with honey.

“Thank the damned, I hoped that would drive her away. I need your assistance,” Sylvanas pressed against the table, eyes alight with an inner fire. She defeated the myth of dumb, mindless undead with the flames that danced in her determined gaze.

Most of the tables close to us were empty, but the few left casted weary glances at the eager Warchief Banshee Queen. Wind whistled as it cut through the bamboo stalks down below. A part of me almost thought the sound was Sylvanas’ undead entourage, the _Val’kyr_.

 _She drove Jaina away on purpose?_ I grew defensive. “What are you asking, Sylvanas?”

“Not about your feelings—I don't have time for bickering, she’ll be back at any moment.” Sylvanas’ crimson eyes flashed quick in the way Jaina had went, and continued. “Some troops—not ordered by me, invaded Gilneas—completely against my command—and they have not returned. I fear the worst.”

I took her words with a grain of salt as she spoke. “The Forsaken are my people—I abandon none. Before you get cross with me on invading Alliance lands, this is a _rescue_ mission. I need my troops back.”

“For what?” I said.

“Do I need a reason? I don't want them to suffer in Genn’s wet, flea-infested lands! Are you going to take part in this evacuation, or not?”

_First off, I know these troops aren't going rogue and doing this on their own. Second...if Sylvanas really is planning something, this is a sure way to find out what. I am not a nosy person—but it doesn't hurt to be more informed. Third, and more important than the last two, Sylvanas will likely kill me if I refuse._

“Just an evacuation. No slaughtering.” I said, although it sounded like more of a warning.

Sylvanas huffed and her decaying blonde hair slithered out of her hood like a pack of bloodthirsty snakes. “For a rogue, you have a lot of rules. Yes, you’ll just be saving my people—and not alone. I have a squad formed to join you, and a force at sea to depart with the missing troops.”

Before I could give my official answer, three mugs were set in the center of the wooden table. As Jaina sat down in front of me, Sylvanas’ eyes pressed me for an answer.

“Yes, Sylvanas...I do like blueberries.” I replied, glancing at Jaina to see if she caught any inner meaning.

Sylvanas smirked, accepting her refill from Jaina with a low murmur of thanks. “Good...I hope you don't mind _pineapple_ either.”

 

~Hours Later~

Crickets rejoiced as the day fell to darkness, chirping at a high D octave as my journey came to an end. My fingers fell upon the doorknob to my home, started to squeeze—

My eyes narrowed as the back of my head stung. I peeked through the window, catching the dim light from one of the oil lamps inside.

_Someone is in my house._

I sighed and my fingers tightened on the brass handle to the round door. _I don't know who’s dumb enough to steal from a rogue, but you learn something new every day._

I wrapped a hand around the pistol buried deep in my coat and yanked the door open. I yelped at what I saw.

“Wrath…! Are you wearing my robe?”

Wrathion sipped tea in the center of the tiny pandaren home, wrapped in nothing but his white turban and a pink floral bathrobe. Pandaren housing wasn't huge and extravagant—to the average person, it could even be considered suffocating. The small space I owned didn't include a living room. But I wasn't home half the time, and it was less to clean.

_I also moved to Pandaria to hide from family (ahem, Alexstrasza, ahem). That backfired._

“It's a little simple for my taste,” Wrathion shrugged, his earrings still attached. He set his cup upon the wooden dining table in the front of the entrance and wandered back into the kitchen. “Do not scold me, dear sister. I'm not the only one invading your... _generous_ living space.”

“I’m not scolding, I love it when you visit. I also love it when you’re wearing clothes,” I set my coat on the dining table, averting my eyes from Wrath’s bare legs. I glanced down the three other rooms in my home. Wrathion skimmed the pantry to the left, peeking into oaken cabinets for food. A long hallway stretched out to my right, curving with a trio of windows and ending at the bathing room. The house was actually huge—to pandaren standards, anyway.

I faced the center entrance and shoved apart light-colored curtains. “Hiding in the Adult Sanctuary? Maybe we are actually related.”

My missing brother, Kalec, sat up from the the pile of mattresses and pillows that covered the floor. _Wrath is right. Kalec really is invisible._

“This is a pillow fort and you know it,” As Kalec shuffled out of the sheets, I recognized his blue and leather uniform. He was at least a head taller than me as he stood upright, crowned with shoulder-length blue hair.

“You missed the summit,” I remarked, leaning against the row of shelves in the corner as I spoke. Kalec studied the display of trinkets and photos beside me, shifting through each one. I fixed a golden music box on one of the shelves eye level with me that was set at an odd angle.

“I apologize, I had other matters to attend to,” Kalec mused, looking over a family photo ordered by Alexstrasza. We stood alongside the dragons aspects wearing loud sweaters and fake smiles. Wrath was tugged into the frame by Alexstrasza’s own hands.

“Like his hobby of being nonexistent,” Wrath took a seat at the table behind us and munched on a snickerdoodle cookie.

“Uhuh, how’s Jaina?” I blew my bangs out of my face, giving him a look.

Kalec uttered a curse and sat down across from Wrathion. He picked up my coat from earlier and folded it neatly on the counter as he said, “There is nothing to discuss, Eon. Everything is fine between us.”

“Apparently not,” I leaned on the chair in between them. “What, did she say something to you? Is it something _I_ said? What—”

“It has nothing to do with either of you, and it is none of your business.” Kalec concluded flatly, folding his muscled arms across his chest.

Wrath nibbled on his cookie, lounging comfortably in one of the cushioned chairs as he replied with silky sarcasm, “I pity you, Kalec. Oh, it is such a shame to have a sister that cares deeply about you...and you live the life of a hermit.”

As Kalec’s glare turned deadly, I stepped in and hugged Kalec from behind. It was a way of showing affection, and preventing him from tackling Wrath. “Please tell me what's going on.”

After sitting in a few moments of silence, Kalec caved. “She’s just...not the same person I knew before. She’s different. The Jaina I adored wanted peace, and now...I feel like I don't recognize her. And when I see her...there’s always this hatred in her eyes. And I always feel like it's meant for me...I don't know how you stand it, Eona.”

Over Kalec’s head, I exchanged a look with Wrath. When Jaina’s homeland, Theramore, was demolished by Horde forces, she was close to drowning the Horde’s capital, Orgrimmar, in a massive tidal wave. Kalec stopped this near-disaster...but Jaina had lost her chance at revenge.

I crouched next to the table beside him. “Peace goes both ways. She’s forgiven you. Have you forgiven her?”

“Forgive her? For what?” Kalec remarked.

“For changing—for being her new self.” I said. “I had to. Did you?”

It used to not matter to Jaina that I was part of the Horde. I did help defend Theramore—it came at the cost of my reputation, but I did not abandon her. I hoped Jaina wouldn't forget that.

Kalec dipped his head. “I suppose not.”

The loud crunch of Wrath biting into two snickerdoodles sandwiched on top of one another filled the silence. “While we’re all gathered here, should we have one of our sibling sleepovers? I need to win back my wealth from our last poker game.”

I slumped down at the table in between them, hugging my coat close. “I’d love to, but I need to be in the Eastern Kingdoms tomorrow.”

Both stayed silent, waiting for me to explain.

“I have a new job,” I replied, “and I hope the pineapples are nice.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaina: So what's with all the food puns?
> 
> Author: ...I'm hungry all the time and regret nothing. 
> 
> Wrathion: Hmm...how familiar that sounds...
> 
> Eon: Shush, emo child/home invader.
> 
> Author: Anyways! Here's another chapter because I love you all. Keep being the Awesome Adventurers that you are and I hope you get bucketloads of love, fortune and glory!!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Kalec: I'm here too :c 
> 
> Sylvanas: Who is this again?
> 
> Kalec: SILENCE, PINEAPPLE.


	4. "Into Introvert's Paradise We Go"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Trespass on an old man's property.

~Silverpine Forest, Eastern Kingdoms~

“This seems cheerful,” I mused as I looked up at Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen perched atop a skeletal horse. I avoided the glowing, beady eyes of the beast as I held tight to the reins of her mount. We oversaw the gloom and foggy haze that was the Forsaken Front.

“I can't believe you traveled on foot the entire way here,” Sylvanas muttered under her breath as her horse stamped its blackened hooves.

“I missed my walk this morning,” I said. _My brothers stayed over last night and kept me up. I ended up sleeping in. Love hurts._

“You would not have need of such a workout if you joined my army,” Sylvanas replied.

My grip tightened on the reins to her horse. “I’ll have to decline your offer. I have a severe death allergy, it's a nightmare.”

“Hmph.” The sound that left the Warchief’s lips was the closest she ever came to a laugh. “The squad I sent out should be waiting for you at the wall.”

I nodded, catching the implied dismissal. “Before I take my leave, I feel the need to ask this...Gilneas is safe, right?”

Sylvanas tipped her head back slightly, staring down with her nose pointed at me like a notched arrow. “Define safe.”

 _Of course that word is not in her vocabulary._ I glanced over my shoulder at the dark horizon coated with gray clouds. “You released the blight there. Is it even safe to breathe? To travel there?”

When Sylvanas called “dibs” on Gilneas, she also marked her territory by filling the peninsula with poisonous gas. I couldn't imagine how anyone could survive such an experience.

Her head tilted to the side. “My scouts say the air is balanced...as of now.”

The confirmation didn't bring comfort, but that did not make a difference. I said goodbye as I walked off the cobblestone road and began the dark muddy path to Gilneas.

“Eona?”

I spun on my heel. Sylvanas’ ruby eyes glowed in the shadow of her hood.

“Return accordingly...I can't tolerate Jaina at lunch without your presence.”

I smiled and continued walking. _That's Sylvanian for “I’ll miss you”._

I trekked across the muddy ground as the land started to change. The trees shed their leaves for a more slender form. Branches seemed to protrude like claws and tug on the ends of my coat. The vibrant greens of Silverpine darkened into lifeless browns. The deeper I trudged, the more the back of my neck tingled. Bird screeches and snapping twigs created an unsettling cantata to listen to.

A more intense darkness loomed over me as I crossed more trees. _The Greymane Wall._

When I looked back down, I caught sight of stick-figure silhouettes against the gray shroud.

_Elves?_

Blood elves, specifically, I learned as I neared. I already knew I stuck out against the gloomy surroundings, but seeing a group of them clustered together was almost blinding. Golden hair, sun-tanned skin, the brightest satin known to Azeroth. It was like walking in on a multi-model photoshoot.

_This pineapple better not give me canker sores._

I shouldn't have been so surprised; blood elves were neighbors to the Forsaken. It wasn't uncommon to see them in this land. I found one face I recognized and waved.

“Halduron,” I smiled as I approached the Ranger-General. He pulled me in for a one-armed hug against his leather uniform. I ran into him in Pandaria where he traveled with a group of elves to the Isle of Thunder. He had a sense of humor and was approachable—two qualities I got along well with.

“I thought I recognized you at the summit. Will you be joining us?” Halduron blond locks shifted as he gestured casually at the looming Greymane Wall.

“Yes. Sylvanas twisted my arm, and now I have no choice.” I said. In truth, I was not here just for Sylvanas—I did want to see the troops returned home. What I didn't understand was the secrecy behind what her motive was.

“What a coincidence,” Halduron smirked and threw a quick glance at his party. It was a small number, and those that had noticed my presence frowned at my freckles. I was surprised to see Grand Magister Rommath; he was a powerful mage, but I didn't know him personally. This operation didn't seem like his expertise. He chatted quietly with the white-haired blood elf from the meeting.

“We might be a while.” Halduron sighed as the conversation across the clearing ended in angry hisses. “You’re free to scout ahead. We’ll catch up with you.”

“Thanks,” I replied. My hike continued through the loose woods. Mud started to cling to my boots, and there was a thickness in the air. One raindrop shattered on my ear. Another split across my nose. A shadow fell upon me with the light rainfall.

The stone of the dark wall matched the dreary sky as it stretched past the treetops. The massive doors of the barricade were smashed in from Sylvanas’ previous attempt to invade Gilneas, leaving chunks of rock scattered across the earth. All I saw was a broken plea to be left alone.

_Into Introvert’s Paradise we go._

I squeezed through an opening in the rubble and the scattered rain followed me to the other side. _Troops went missing in these parts. That was the effect. If I want to find said effect, wouldn't it make sense to search for a cause?_

I looked to my left, where the patch of forestry continued. It was a good place to hide—for hunters and for prey.

I secured my hood over my head and surged forward. The woods of Gilneas were a unique territory. The ground was interrupted with rocky fixtures, making each step a careful one. The trees themselves weren't packed together, but a fog lingered, limiting what I could see.

The hilts of my swords were engraved on my palms as I held them tightly. _It's silent. Silence is never a good sign—it’s a symptom of death. Something is wrong here._

The fog was starting to get on my nerves—I couldn't see anything. The stomp of heavy footfalls carried across the glen.

My eyes widened. _I'm vulnerable on the ground—I need an advantage. I want to get a good look at whatever this is._

I skittered over to the closest tree and grabbed ahold of a lower branch. The gray bark was rough even through my gloves. I climbed as the footsteps continued. Curiosity took over and I glanced behind to look—

And lost my grip in the process.

“EEEEEEEEEP—! Ow, my luck,” My back seared as I hit something cold and metal. I sat up and held a hand to my pounding head as I looked down.

“I would say thanks for cushioning my fall, but I'm conflicted,” I replied, looking down at Anduin in the same armor he wore at the meeting. _We have to stop meeting like this. It’s getting more dangerous each time, and my back can only take so much._

Andy chuckled, but it sounded hoarse, “Are you alright? What are you doing here, Eona?”

I hauled myself up and helped Andy to his feet. I brushed off some of the dirt on his shoulder plate and shrugged, “Sorry for landing on you. I’m okay, I Just thought I’d drop by...you come here often?”

“I can't say too much.” Andy replied. I nodded and my lips parted into a smile.

“Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?” Andy asked.

I blew my hair out of my face as I looked around. “No. Not yet...it feels odd, doesn't it?”

“It does.” When Anduin’s elegant voice trailed off, the watchful silence of the woods took its place.

_What is he doing here? Something Alliancy, probably. Maybe Genn is ignoring mother hen Taran Zhu and taking his land anyway._

“Eona,” Anduin paused. “Be careful out here, please. We’re not the only ones here…”

The reply made me ponder. _So there is more Alliance here._ Neither of us wanted to outright reveal anything dire of the Horde and Alliance. It would be a crime to do so. I said carefully, “I would agree with that statement.”

“You would?”

“Mhm.”

“...Alright, I can't stand this atmosphere. Some of Genn’s people disobeyed his orders and they tried to retake Gilneas. Now they’re missing, and we’ve come to retrieve them.” Andy’s explanation came out rushed.

I blinked a few times as I processed the information. “Andy...did you just commit treason?”

“Yes, I believe so…”

“Hmm. Sexy.”

I hid my delight in the bright blush that swept across Anduin’s face. Before I could say more, the back of my head throbbed, and I spun on my heel.

Genn Greymane’s fluffy, bristling form towered over me. “You smell.”

I scoffed at the white-furred worgen. “I think you mean your yard—by the way, you have some mowing to do.”

“Your majesty, can I kill her? Or you can have the honors,” Genn’s deep voice addressed the King of Stormwind.

“Paws off, Greymane. She’s one of ours,” The white-haired blood elf stood next to Halduron, staring at Genn wearily. The party of blood elves appeared in a half circle on the outskirts of the treeline.

It was probably the wrong time, but I felt it was necessary to ask. “I'm sorry, who are you again?”

Half of the elves gaped at me. Halduron was mildly amused. The bottom half of Rommath’s face was covered, but his eyes squinted at me like an impossible pair of notes to play.

“Regent Lord of Quel’Thalas…?” Halduron asked as he motioned towards the one-eyed elf.

“Doesn't ring a bell.” I replied.

“Leader of the blood elves?”

“Sorry. Got nothing.”

“You’ve never heard of _Lor’themar Theron_ in your life?” Rommath’s glare was lethal.

_Lor’themar! Aha!_

“Oh yeah. Sylvanas bosses you around all the time...I’m sorry, you live a hard life. You don’t deserve this,” I replied. Halduron nearly burst into tears as he tried not to cry from silent laughter.

“You too?” Genn chimed in. Genn’s worgen followers emerged from the forest, mixed with some Stormwind guards.

Lor’themar sighed. “There are many reasons I drink. Sylvanas is one of them.”

“Women do rule the world,” Genn shot a suspicious glance my way.

“It's a wonderful world,” Anduin added.

Genn ignored the king’s comment, his full attention given to Lor’themar. “We do not come here in opposition to the summit.”

“Neither do we,” Lor’themar replied. “Some troops wandered too far and went missing. We simply mean to retrieve them and we’ll be on our way.”

“Likewise.”

Murmuring rose up between the two parties. Fists were clenched. Some looked in different directions, ready to depart.

_I might try to do something...but I have an excuse: women rule the world. I'm simply carrying out my duty here._

“May we have a quick word, please?” I said as I crossed the short difference to Lor’themar. Wet strands of hair clung to his face. A raindrop ran down his jaw and fell from his goatee.

He gave me a curt nod and excused himself from the Alliance leaders. Halduron stood idly by, eavesdropping on the conversation as it began.

“I apologize for the whole title thing. I’ve never been to Silvermoon in my life,” I admitted, the name of the blood elf capital feeling foreign on my tongue.

Lor’themar’s jaded green eye blinked with surprise, “Really? The way Halduron spoke of you, you caught my interest.”

“He spoke of me?” When I looked over at Halduron, he smirked back.

“Yes. He’s called you a ‘sexy cheetah’ in context numerous times.” Lor’themar mused.

I felt my face grow hot, probably amplifying the many freckles that I was nicknamed after. “Thanks...I think. Anyway, you’re in charge, and I’m sure you know what you’re doing, sir, but perhaps we should seek an alliance...with the Alliance.”

“With all due respect, but are you trying to sever my head with one of Sylvanas’ guillotines?” The blood elf leader stared at me like I’d lost my own head.

“No! Of course not, but this is already an operation that very few know of...Sylvanas doesn't have to be informed about this—and if she does find out, just...say it was me.” I said as I folded my arms against my chest like a steel corset.

“You’re willing to face the Warchief Dark Lady’s wrath?” Lor’themar’s tone was light with awe.

“Sure, she’s already threatened to kill me millions of times. If she finally does, it won't be a surprise.” I shrugged nonchalantly as if we weren't speaking of life and death.

I overheard Halduron gasp. “An undead sexy cheetah.”

 _I...don't know how to respond to that._ Lor’themar’s hand rested upon the leather hilt of his long sword as he called out to the monarch. “Greymane, perhaps we should…”

“Join forces.” I finished the sentence for him, leaning forward as I rose up on my toes.

“Yes. Thank you,” Lor’themar cleared his throat.

We looked across the patches of grass and rock at Genn, whose muzzle twitched with irritation. Anduin answered for him, “We gladly accept, Regent Lord.”

I smiled innocently as the leader of the worgen sneered at my existence. _What do you know? Women do rule the world._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: With all the testing going on over here, I'd love to hide in introvert's paradise :3 I hope you Awesome Adventurers are doing well! Lor'themar and Genn as old, tired babysitters was just too good to pass up. I promise we'll see other cool characters as we go on, have an amazing day full of love, fortune, and glory!!


	5. "Cranberries of Death"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Tame the bunny uprising.

~Gilneas, The Blackwald~

Dark, curled claws reached out from the limbs of the trees as if to snuff out the moon above us. I lightly dipped my head to avoid thick vines that barred red thorns. The woods had changed from their dull grays and browns to the unnatural black and crimson. Silence still stalked us.

I glanced across the foliage at Genn. His fur was matted with water droplets and bones of the branches that he had brushed against. Most of the worgen spread out, searching for their lost brethren. The worgen who stayed closer to their king spent their time wrinkling their snouts at the blood elves. The only one that seemed to get along with them was Halduron, asking about their hunting habits.

“I know a gardener.” I said, catching Genn’s wild yet intelligent stare.

“That’s not amusing,” He growled. Genn’s paws squashed the scarlet-bathed ground and drifted closer to me. Anduin was a few paces away, and gave Genn a warning glance before the older monarch opened his mouth.

“You were at the summit, yet you command no army. Why come?” Genn remarked.

“I'm a consultant,” I said. “And it's my planet too. Why wouldn't I attend?”

“Fair enough.” The worgen ruler stepped over a chunk of rock in the ground with ease. He continued walking (or something close to that) without a pause in speed. “But you’re forgetting something. It's not just a planet, it’s the people—and your little truce for this party is weakening.”

He wasn't wrong. The longer the blood elves spent with the worgen, tensions seemed to increase. I thought it was a good idea before, but did I go too far?

“I'm not the only one behind that truce.” My soaked hair clung to my cheeks as I turned and smiled at Andy. His huge grin returned—and a pair of Stormwind guards had to avert him from ramming right into a tree afterwards.

Genn huffed and said no more. _Imagine if it were Varian Wrynn instead of Genn. He would probably accuse me of being the next Lady Prestor...or Wrathion, probably._

A shrill sound pierced the air like a bowstring raked across a violin. A throb resonated in my head. Our heads snapped up. Mine turned in the direction of a nearby vine, and a crow settled there not long after. It croaked once more and ruffled its feathers.

“Your reflexes are...adequate.” I could’ve been mistaken, but Genn’s voice almost held a hint of uncertainty.

The “reflexes” had always been there, starting with a sting in the back of my head. I used to call it a sixth sense, but as I grew older, the name _Foreshadowing_ seemed more appropriate. _The reflex has saved my life and many others...the scary change is what else it has begun to alert me of._

“Thanks.” I replied. “You notice the silence, don't you? It's not just me?”

Genn barred a row of fangs as he studied the dark woods. “It’s unsettling, but perhaps it means that we’re closer.”

“To what?”

“Whatever that stench is,” Halduron the master eavesdropper called from ahead. His nose was scrunched up. “It’s getting stronger.”

Genn sniffed the air. “He's right...and shockingly, it's not you.”

Shouts came from some of the elves to the right and the lost undead soldiers came into view. I watched from afar as Lor’themar spoke with one of the survivors.

Genn was drawn to the side by one of his pack, and I overheard the recovery of the worgen rebels. My focus was more on the clumps of undead soldiers that entered the clearing and mingled with the blood elves.

_I’d love to speak with one of them. See why they were sent here—_

“Is something wrong?” Anduin came up beside me. The soft plink of raindrops pelting his armor followed.

“Hmm? No, just thinking,” I said. As we overlooked the found Forsaken, four of them carried a body covered in white linen.

“My condolences,” Andy dipped his head towards the covered corpse.

_He's still nice. It's sweet of him to say that...speaking of sweet, how does Andy smell so good? It's the middle of the woods and even the blood elves have a yucky sweaty odor. How does Andy smell like an apple orchard next to a clear lake glistening with sunlight—? Okay, I’ve been silent for too long and I feel like this is getting awkward. I need to say something._

“That’s very kind of you,” I replied, “but I wonder how it happened...please excuse me.”

I approached the two soldiers that peered over the mummified body and dipped my head. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

They exchanged a glance with their glazed eyes. One spoke up, “It’s alright. He was an idiot—he had it coming.”

“Yes. Darrell won't be missed.” The other replied.

I coughed into my palm as the stench of rotting flesh hit my nose. “How did it happen?”

A screech rang out across the Blackwald, silencing the undead. Every head turned and stared as the crow from earlier was swallowed up by darkness. Two eerie dots of red took its place. The red dots continued to pop up like a ghost town brought back to life at night.

The shadows took forms as they dashed out and descended upon us.

_Sylvanas was wrong: this isn't pineapple at all. These are cranberries of death._

“GENN! YOU NEED AN EXTERMINATOR!” I shouted as I ran back to Anduin. Moonlight fought through the trees and illuminated the beasts. They were worgen, but there was something off about them.

I unsheathed my swords as blood elves aimed their bows. I darted right past Anduin and my blade shrieked as it met hardened talons. Up close, I noticed bloody gashes across the fur. A familiar smell wafted back to my nose.

_They’re undead. Undead worgen. That’s like putting Wrathion and Alexstrasza in the same room together for five hours—it goes against the laws of nature!_

I could barely hold my stance against the worgen’s incredible strength. Thankfully the elves had reacted to the invasion and arrows shrieked past my ears. Three bolts buried themselves into the worgen’s shoulder, but it seemed more provoked than weakened.

I ducked just as Genn’s claws raked across the undead worgen’s chest, finishing off the creature. Genn leaned in close, fangs bared, as he seethed, “ _Undead worgen?_ Killing my people wasn't enough for Sylvanas? That’s not enough blood for you?”

“I didn't know anything about this!” I pleaded as I turned to another undead worgen. The howl of a new, frightening pack vibrated through the woods as the undead worgen ran from the shadows. I avoided the livid, burning eyes of the worgen as I thrusted my blade into his chest. My eyes widened as the worgen just stood there for a moment, looking down at the brown hilt. Then it’s malevolent gaze returned to me.

“You know what? It's yours, Merry Winter Veil!” Like a proud hero of Azeroth, I turned on my heel and ran.

Genn abandoned the fight not long after and lightly jogged to keep up with my sprint. He barked, “This alliance is over! Let this be a lesson to that bat up in Lordaeron!”

 _He actually didn't say bat, but I feel like this is intense enough already._ I had no idea if Sylvanas had actually brought the worgen back—how else could they be resurrected as undead? It was yet another secret of the Warchief Banshee Queen that I would never learn.

“You want to face them by yourself? Come on!” I snapped. “It's about the people, like you said. You really think your forces can take them alone? Fighting friends they used to know?”

The ruler of Gilneas let out an irritated sigh, that sounded much more like a growl in his furry form. We caught up with Lor’themar and Anduin as they made slow progress through the woods.

“No offense, your worship, but isn't summoning the Light a beacon to the beasts?” Lor’themar remarked in a casual tone as his longsword tore through the abdomen a drooling undead worgen.

“My apologies. Next time I’ll wear bright red satin instead,” Anduin’s fingers glowed as he glanced back at the Regent Lord. I bit my lower lip to hide my smirk of delight at the comment.

“We’re being overrun, Your Majesty,” Genn’s deep voice rumbled as we looked over the skirmish. The dark pelts of the worgen clashed with the bright mail of the elven rangers like night and light. Even with the survivors on our side, it seemed more like a massacre.

Halduron appeared on my left with half of his cloak ripped. He nodded to me, “You lost your sword?”

I glanced down where the other one used to hang from my waist. Somewhere far away, I wondered if an undead worgen was laughing.

“I gave it to charity,” I said.

“Making the world a better place,” Halduron winked.

The few Stormwind guards left huddled close to their king like a match in the darkness. Lor’themar bowed his head to Halduron as they came to some unspoken agreement.

“We can't stay here and fight these beasts. There should be ships stationed at Stormglen,” Lor’themar said as Halduron signaled to the Horde forces.

“They’re not the only ones,” Anduin paused. The two exchanged weary glances. “Is there any chance they’ll still be there?”

“Only way to find out.” Genn howled and the heads of his people turned. “Try to keep up, Theron.”

“Tell that to our sexy cheetah,” Halduron’s hand clapped on my shoulder as the Alliance monarchs wore dumbfounded expressions. I froze. _Should I say something? I’ve been called worse. It is sort of a compliment—a bizarre compliment, but still a compliment._

“Rawr,” He added.

My face fell into my hands. _Oh bloody red roses why._

Our conversation was cut short as members from the living worgen pack and undead soldiers rushed past. The two Forsaken guards from before still carried the fallen soldier wrapped in linen.

“Follow my people, they know the way out!” Genn called and his claws raked across the dirt as he darted forward to lead his pack.

I took one step forward when a new hand fell upon my arm. Lor’themar gestured with his chin at the Horde soldiers to follow the Alliance and looked down at me. There was a sickly sweet scent that lingered on his robes—no where near the natural aroma of Anduin. His voice went down an octave, “We can't outrun them.”

My chest burned as I sharply inhaled and studied the moving shadows. The undead worgen moved like a harsh wind through the forest, cutting down any living thing in their path in a flurry of dagger-like fingers and pain.

I admitted the somber truth with a quick nod. “What are you planning?”

The last of the troops passed us. Lor’themar backed up slowly, his hand returning to the hilt of his sword. “Where’s Rommath?”

I halted in my tracks, which was a poor choice. Two worgen leapt out from the shadows and snarled as they charged.

I pushed my coat back and aimed my pistol at the second. Lor’themar dodged the snapping jaws of the first and his sword flashed across it's throat. The cool metal of the trigger teased my index finger as I pushed, and the vibration crept up my forearm.

Lor’themar stepped away from the corpses with a firm grip on his sword. “Find him, by any means necessary.”

The Regent Lord turned away and dove straight into the Blackwald infested with rabid monsters. My finger teased the trigger to my pistol as I spun on my heel and did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey Awesome Adventurers! I hope your gardens are doing better than Genn's c: and we recently got to 100 views! Yay! I want to spoil you guys, but I'm also juggling school stuff right now, so it may be a few days. Thank you so much, I'm so happy all of you enjoy this story, and more will be coming soon. Love, fortune and glory to you!!


	6. "Goblin Ikea Furniture"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Survive Dunkirk 2.0.

_Maybe if I say more incorrect things about Lor’themar, I’ll lure Rommath out of hiding._ I darted from one tree trunk to another, my back pressed against the obsidian bark. I could’ve covered my glowing eyes, but what was the point? Genn made it very clear my scent would give me away. Luckily the large party held most of their attention.

The pound of raindrops hitting the blanket of leaves above me mixed with the shouts and howls from our party. I didn't have a lot of time—the rescue trip would transform into a bloody massacre if I couldn't find Rommath soon.

I tucked my hair behind my ear as it started to rise in volume from the humidity. _I don’t care if I might be sporting an afro, the Grand Magister is more important. Where is he?_

I squinted to find bright green dots in place of red ones. The searing touch of _Foreshadowing_ pierced back of my skull when I looked to the left. There was a slight tingle that accompanied the pain, like a reassuring tone.

I held my breath as I left the waterlogged tree behind and sprinted across the crimson-bathed grass. None of the undead worgen had made an appearance.

 _Did Sylvanas really raise them?_ There was a prominent tug in my chest when I thought about it. _I suppose there’s no other option, it has to be her work. But it doesn't make sense—I thought the val'kyr couldn't raise worgen. I shouldn't care this much, but it's eerie to think about._

I pressed a hand above my neck and held in a wince. No sign of Rommath.

In one moment of desperation, I whispered starkly, “Lor’themar sucks!”

I peeked behind a tree trunk and sniffed the air for the smell of strong hair products. Nothing.

Suddenly I spun on my heel. I resisted the urge to gag as a vile stench harassed my nose. Two rows of yellowing teeth protruded from the jaw of an undead worgen. As it raised a claw for a killing strike, frost grew from behind it's back and sealed the worgen in a block of ice.

I leaned to look out beyond the frozen cage and saw Rommath perched up on one of the high tree branches. “You suck.” He remarked.

I sidestepped the frost-bitten worgen and crossed my arms as I stared up at the Grand Magister of Silvermoon stuck in a tree. _Did he think it was a shelf? Thank the Stars I didn't say that out loud._

“Can you make snow cones?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

It was hard to decipher Rommath’s actual expression with the bottom part of his face masked, but his squinting eyes said it all. “Silvermoon might have benefited from your absence.”

“That's a lot of high talk when you’re stuck in a tree—no pun intended.” I said, crossing my arms as I stared up at him. A scream erupted in the distance, reminding me of the gravity of our situation. The more I waited, the more our party suffered. “We don't have much time. We can't outrun the worgen—can you please turn them into frozen popsicle sticks?”

“I prefer a more formal term, but for the sake of simplicity, yes,” Rommath crouched atop his branch, holding onto the trunk of the tree as it teetered. “Do not repeat a word of this to Halduron.”

“Fine, let’s just go—ACK!” I barely had time to brace myself as the Grand Magister fell on top of me. Thorns and mud gnawed at my clothes when I hit the ground. _I should really invest in a back brace._

Rommath stood and dusted himself off. He announced above me, “Something slipped my mind.”

I tried to control my lethal glare from the ground as I leaned up on my elbows. _What? You eat more doughnuts than I do?_

“I have the ability to slow my fall.” He said.

I released my irritation in one sharp, precise exhale as I blew my bangs away. “Silvermoon must really benefit from _your_ absence.”

Thorns and twigs pinched at my skin as I rose from the ground. Rommath stared at me intently as I straightened my coat and plucked twigs from my hair.

“There is something...familiar about you. But I cannot fathom what.” He noted.

It was a peculiar statement that caught me off guard. When I came upon the realization why, my mouth was dry and wordless. Rommath’s inquiring gaze bore into me until I finally said, “Neither can I.”

I gestured back towards the struggling troops. “After you.”

~*~

The noises we overheard made my blood run cold as I lead Rommath back through the woods. I caught flashes of blood and gaping wounds as we intercepted worgen, undead, humans and blood elves fighting back to back.

Rommath stopped short and removed his glowing staff from his back. His demanding stare caught mine as he said, “Keep them off me.”

I spun on my heel as I searched for Lor’themar. He deserved to know that Rommath was found—for better or worse. I saw Halduron with a nasty scar across his cheek. The air was laid thick with the rusty odor of blood and deteriorating flesh.

Lor’themar broke away from the line of trees, his ponytail almost as frizzy as mine. He bowed his head to the Grand Magister and held his sword at the ready beside me.

Lor’themar’s words were tinted with the smell of wine. “Thank you.”

I nodded, feeling the greatest surge of relief since the start of this mission. _At least something is going right._ I managed to make this reassurance crumble with one question.

_What about Anduin?_

Thankfully, Andy wasn't hard to find. The white flashes came from somewhere in the center of the clump of soldiers. I couldn't determine what condition he was in, but I assumed he was the reason we had so few casualties thus far.

Rommath’s light had attracted the undead, and I used it to my advantage. As the creatures lumbered forward on long, fixed steps, I slipped on my goggles and became one with the shadows. _My scent shouldn't be such an issue now—there’s too much commotion going on. The only thing I have to worry about is being quick, and not to think of what will happen if I'm not._

I didn’t strike killing blows—those would be ineffective and a waste of time. Instead, I went for dazing strikes. I stunned some by targeting arteries that shut the body down. Other times I used my pistol and shot close to their ears. I was nothing but an air of confusion that my enemies choked on. I didn't dominate with bright lights or battle cries; just utter hysteria.

I raced towards another target as the temperature suddenly dropped and caressed my skin with goosebumps. I looked back at Rommath as his eyes took on a white glow. Ice shot up from the ground and encased the undead worgen.

_It’s not a competition or anything, but...Khadgar’s better._

The Blackwald was silent, but the heaves of our living party members filled the void. I overheard Halduron dare one of the rangers to put their tongue to the ice, earning a stern glare from Rommath.

“We don't have time to stand around, this isn't all of them.” Lor’themar shed the blood from his sword on the ground and returned the weapon to it's sheath.

Genn spoke to the rest of the party, “To Stormglen!”

His declare should have been comforting, but the look Lor’themar sent my way told me otherwise. We hurried past the frozen statues and I wondered how long they would stay like that. The line of trees lessened as we came to an a street lined with Gilnean houses. They were made in the same dreary colors to match the land and the windows were dark. I knew the look of a life left behind well enough.

_Genn’s people did go through a lot. Sylvanas really wrecked these poor introverts._

Genn stopped short close to Lor’themar and I. He gestured with a claw towards the abandoned homes. “What is left of my people.”

Lor’themar had a dark glimmer in his eyes when he said, “I’ve seen worse.”

 _The plight of Sylvanas’ personal punching bags._ My gaze flitted between the two leaders as Halduron passed behind me and leaned close to my ear, “If we’re bragging about whose life is more unbearable, my tongue really hurts.”

I had to keep walking and dragged Halduron with me so the two old men wouldn't see my smirk.

  
When we ran out of cobblestone road and empty houses, a strip of packed, gray sand clashed with the whitecaps of the ocean. Two ships were wedged upon the shore hailing with the symbols of Stormwind and Silvermoon. Unease trailed it's fingers up my arms as I studied the two vessels for damage.

“Why haven't they fired on each other yet?” I whispered like the two ships would come alive if I spoke too loud.

The scar across Halduron’s cheek had dried, but I couldn't imagine how painful it was for him to talk as he hummed, “Lor’themar being the wise, considerate alcoholic he is left many kegs on our ship. Perhaps they’re drunk?”

“When are sailors not drunk?” I asked.

“When they join Sylvanas’ ranks.”

The two undead soldiers carrying the fallen body from before passed by. “He’s right, you know.”

 _Wow. They move fast for corpses._ I felt my ears prickle up at my sides as the undead skittered across the wet sand with skinless toes peeking out of their boots. They knocked on the hull to the blood elves’ ship and peered at the low deck.

Halduron’s long eyebrows went up and I looked to the soft crush of Anduin’s footsteps on the ground. Our party had caught up with us and hastily climbed the ladders onto the ship. The wooden vessels groaned as they rocked back and forth.

Halduron excused himself to help the evacuation as I drifted to Andy’s side. The wind lifted tendrils of his golden bangs and tugged them towards the sea.

“I hope this stays a rescue mission,” He said wistfully as he looked out onto the waves. The pattern of white and black along the water reminded me of piano keys.

 _Hopefully he's right._ I nodded and moistened my lips. “Me too.”

When I was standing still, I could feel all the cuts and bruises from the Blackwald (and Rommath) on my skin. I couldn't risk Anduin healing me in front of the troops, so I kept my lips sealed about it.

_I don't know how I'm going to keep all of this from Sylvanas...I can't. I have to tell her, I have too many witnesses. But...maybe I can spare Anduin from this story._

Andy’s head shifted towards me. “You still believe in peace?”

“When I lived on Outland, what mattered most was survival, not races or factions.” I said, plucking my goggles from my face. The cool, salty breeze stung my eyes as I looked out. _There weren't any oceans where I came from. In some places, the breeze didn't exist either._

I pushed all of my hair onto my left shoulder so I could glance at Anduin. “We didn't have the luxury to nitpick...I see no point in doing so now.”

Andy smiled a little at hearing this. His elegant voice replied, “I'm glad to hear that. Perhaps we can continue this conversation at another time.”

“I’d like that.” I said.

We broke apart as the last few of the troops collected on the ships. Lor’themar followed up behind me on the wooden ladder that trembled beneath my grasp. When I reached the top, Halduron offered a hand and pulled me to the surface.

Halduron was right; I looked past the wounded and the soldiers at the drunk sailors hiccuping as they went. My eyes widened at the captain swaying on his feet.

_Now I know what drunk pineapple looks like. You really do learn something new each day._

The fear of undead worgen had dissipated, but a new tension lay thick in the air. As the ship departed from the gray strand, most passengers looked over to the shadow of the Alliance ship on the horizon.

“Aren't we going to fire?” Rommath remarked. He leaned heavily on his staff, still drained from casting the spell that saved our lives.

I leaned slightly towards Lor’themar, “This is a rescue mission, not an assault on the Alliance, sir.”

“Thank you, Eona.”

“It's about the people.”

“I remember, Ms. Strider.”

“Sylvanas wants her troops back in one piece.”

“They can be reassembled.”

I bit my lip. “But do you think Sylvanas would want to put her people back together like goblin Ikea furniture?”

The Regent Lord was silent.

“...Do not attack the Alliance ships. Our mission is to get our people home foremost. To Tirisfal Glades.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey Awesome Adventurers! Sorry for a long week with no updates, but I'm back and I have some fun stuff for you guys! We have two more chapters on the way today, so I'll go ahead and get those going for you guys. Until then, love, fortune and glory to you!!


	7. "Dorky Pineapple"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Don't get killed with kindness.

~The Undercity, Tirisfal Glades~

Sylvanas watched the Forsaken troops were ushered to what posed as an infirmary, but could also be described as an assortment of limbs. I stood next to her as her eyes landed on the linen-wrapped soldier that fell.

“Were there any other casualties?” She asked. Sylvanas’ voice was much louder as her echo bounced off the lofty gray walls of the Undercity.

My gaze teetered to Lor’themar on Sylvanas’ other side. “No.”

I stepped back a little bit and glanced at Lor’themar behind Sylvanas’ back. _We were lucky, yes, but not that lucky. Maybe he’s lying...so Lor’themar’s troops don't become Sylvanas’ troops._

“Impressive, for the living.” The Warchief Banshee Queen turned to me. “Anything else?”

 _Here it comes._ Lor’themar and I discussed this on the ship, knowing it was better for Sylvanas to be told than to find out. I steeled myself as I said, “We came across an Alliance party in Gilneas. We wanted to strike them down, but joining forces was necessary.”

“It was my idea.” I added as I caught the shift of Lor’themar’s plated uniform. Sylvanas’ head snapped to him with a speed impossible among the living. “You authorized this?”

Before Lor’themar could speak, I cut in, “It was the only way to stand against the undead worgen.”

Sylvanas was many things. Cold. Still. Breathless. Calculated. And in this moment, her face was as unreadable as a scroll left by the Titans. “Care to elaborate?”

I resisted the urge to fidget in Sylvanas’ presence. “We found them in the Blackwald. According to—”

 _Genn._ “...the Gilneans, the undead worgen were from the first invasion of Gilneas...was that you?”

Her black and blue exterior flickered. “Greymane’s people are wild enough alive, they’re no use to me undead.”

“And what does that mean?”

“You are a an inquisitive, clever creature, Eona.” Sylvanas hand rose almost like she would place it on my shoulder, but instead she gestured with it. Lor’themar peeked over Sylvanas’ shoulder and his eye stared at her wide in shock.

_Compliments are a rare thing from Sylvanas. It's obviously a diversion...how come everyone is giving me weird compliments?_

“Thank...you?” I knew it was a trick, but it was still hard to process the words coming out of the Banshee Queen’s mouth.

“It is pure fact. You are valuable to the Horde. To _us_. And for that, I present you with this,” Sylvanas called to one of her personal guards stationed along the walls and they lumbered forward. The undead guard kneeled as she offered me a sheathed dagger.

I carefully picked up the light weapon from the rotting fingers of the undead woman. It was a welcome and suspicious upgrade to the sword lost somewhere in Gilneas. My stare lingered on the jeweled hilt before I looked back at a prideful Sylvanas.

_This is unbelievable. Look at this! She’s throwing knives at the problem!_

“This is too much,” I said, fully meaning it. _Yes, this is too much. You’re just trying to keep me quiet with shiny things! I want to know what’s going on in Gilneas! I will give this back for answers...okay, I'm not giving it back, it's really nice and it’ll make Wrath jealous. But I still want answers!_

“When you strike, you strike in the name of the Banshee Queen.” Sylvanas declared as the guard bowed to her. I was completely speechless.

_Oh my Stars. Sylvanas Windrunner just killed me with kindness._

“Run along now, Strider.” Her tone once again became dismissive. “I will alert you when I need your scouting expertise again.”

“But…” I glanced between Lor’themar and Sylvanas like a child left out on the adult stuff. And technically I was, but that didn't make it any more fair.

“Go on. Go murder something with Halduron, you like that,” Sylvanas made a slight pushing gesture with her arms. Lor’themar watched the display with an exasperated sigh.

My head hung low as I turned around, sulking as I crossed the bridge to the other side of the canal. _I am not a child! I am an adult that beats up dragons and bunny infestations. I am not a child, and neither is Halduron—_

I saw Halduron on the other side with his tongue out, trying to see if there was a bruise on it. My shoulders sagged. _Crap. I am the child._

“Any news?” Halduron noticed me and his tongue returned to his mouth.

I shook my head. “No. They kicked me out. I guess I’ll be returning home now.”

“Oh. Well, my thanks for your help. We could not have gotten this far without your aid, Sexy Cheetah.” Halduron bowed lightly to me as the canal beside us sizzled and hissed with sludge.

“I’ll see you at the summit... _Dorky Pineapple_.” I grinned with victory as I pulled my hearthstone out of my pocket and Halduron’s shocked face blurred with white.

~*~

My feet landed on the front steps to my house. I filled my lungs with sweet, fresh air to bury the smell of death that I had been accustomed to.

A hanging bench creaked as it softly dipped back and forth from a tree in my yard. I couldn't help but think of how much the creaking sounded like a flute until I saw Kalec sitting there.

The ripe green grass crunched beneath my feet as I left the bamboo steps and sat next to Kalec. The swinging bench was one of my first priorities when I moved to the Valley of Four Winds. I liked looking out at the hills, watching them move in and out of focus. Sometimes I would get lost in it and feel like I was flying. Not this time.

“How was Tirisfal?”  Kalec found his hands in his lap very interesting and stared at them. _He’s talking, though—that’s a good sign._

“Full of questions. And I don't know if I want them answered or not,” I said, taking out the blade that Sylvanas gifted to me. I slid it halfway out of its sheath and caught a glimpse of my freckled face in the reflective metal.

“How was Jaina?”

Kalec grunted, and his feet kept the swing bobbing back and forth. “It was hard to say anything to her without it being...odd.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

Kalec’s gaze swept over the hills that moved like the choppy waves of Gilneas. “I said that I wish I had been more supportive of her. I was sorry that things turned out the way they did...we’re not dating, but she did ask for my opinion on an old mage text she found in Dalaran. It's a start.”

“It is,” I agreed, pushing the dagger back into its sheath. “You have Tyrygosa now...but I think it's good that you patched things up with Jaina.”

Kalec chuckled at the saying, but the laughter did not meet his eyes. “It's hard for us...you know. We make connections so much easier than humans, and then they just…”

Kalec thrusted both his feet on the ground, and the soft, melodic swinging ended. “Stop. And they get used to walking again so easily, but us…”

“We’re left swinging alone.” I said and patted his hand. It was supposed to be a joke, but as silence crept between us, it felt more like dark humor. It made me think of many things. Of my own relationship with Jaina. With Anduin. With—

Sylvanas.

I was critical of her when I was in Gilneas, and I had every right to be on the Gilneans’ behalf. But Sylvanas wasn't swinging anymore. That stopped with Arthas. Now she was stuck, trying to walk again without the luxury of warmth or food or life. Anduin had lost his father. Lor’themar had lost his people. Jaina and Genn had lost their homes. But Sylvanas lost _herself_.

“But I still have you,” I said, and turned to look at the second person who welcomed me to this planet. Kalec’s smile was sad, but also sweet, and he reached for my hand as we kept swinging together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome back Awesome Adventurers! So I've been thinking on how I want to continue this novel (don't worry, we have tons of material planned). Back when we had the prequel to this story, it was really fast-paced and I feel like we enjoyed that, so I was thinking of doing something similar. I want to split up this book into "epochs"—that slightly sounds like a bird with a mental illness but it's not as big a deal as it sounds. Basically what I mean is that I'll be grouping chapters together into sections that go over a certain event, like this one was based in Gilneas and we focused on Genn, Lor'themar, and Sylvanas. So the next chapter will be the last part of this segment, and then we'll focus on a new bunch of Warcraft characters and a different setting. This way we get to experience a lot more of Azeroth and its heroes over time—I'll probably give you guys some reveals in the next A/N on new stuff coming soon. But don't get too worried over the epoch thing, that's more of a bigger deal for me writing-wise as it is for you. I just wanted to address it now so you guys know what's going on c: sorry for such a long note! Thanks for listening, and I'll see you in the next chapter—there's some shocking stuff in there, so brace yourselves! Love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	8. "This Isn't Darrell"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Hire better guards.

~Sylvanas Windrunner, the Undercity~

“Dark Lady, I have prepared what you requested.”

I regarded the apothecary that approached my elevated platform. Like all in his profession, he wore long robes stained with elixirs from his work. What I requested of him was a little more than a simple potion.

“Show me.” I ordered, and I followed the quick but limping figure out of my chambers. The guards along the wall saluted to me as I passed with their arms folded across their chests, like they were greeting death itself. It was easy to forget they were there; they could stand for days on end without a single clink of armor.

“The troops that returned have been...fixed up, and they are ready to serve your will once again.” The apothecary’s jaw was held together with a leather sleeve. These appendages seemed to bother the living immensely, but I didn't have the luxury to care.

“Good. They will do so soon enough.” I remarked. We weaved through the city at a quick pace with no need to catch our breath. There was no meaning to this life; no food, no rest, no training. Everything was kept in the same exact condition, in the same exact pain and bitterness.

_I used to loathe these halls. I used to loathe the people, especially the living ones that paraded their liveliness when they visited. I used to loathe this life. But now, I focus on what I was given, not what was taken away from me._

I had no need of counting minutes, but I knew that we reached the Apothecarium in due time. Time was no longer a precious currency to me. We strode down the twisting path into the secluded chambers of the apothecaries.

The walls were darkened with stains and the wooden benches matched. I was sure it smelled foul to the living, but it made no difference to us. One of the empty slabs reminded me of it's old prisoner, Koltira Deathweaver. I didn't have time to relive those memories as I noticed two guards hovering around one of the slabs in the center of the room.

“You said this was Darrell. This isn't Darrell.”

“What happened to Darrell, dude?”

The apothecary shooed the two guards away from the slab. “I threw him in a river because he was a living insult. Now move.”

“That's rude! Darrell was funny...sure, he did stupid things, but he was fun to laugh at.”

“Yeah, dude. Why would you take that away from us?” The undead guards from Gilneas pestered endlessly.

“Because it became less funny and more of a health code violation—which we accurately follow,” The apothecary added as I approached the slab. “And if you call me ‘dude’ again, I’ll feed you to the giant slug one room over!”

It was the same linen-draped body that was carried in before, when I spoke to Eona—

_Eona._

I wanted to kill her. It would be gentle, just like the end to one of her compositions. Then she would be reborn into a new sonata. Even if death, I felt like Eona would be full of life.

_And yet..._

Something refrained me from giving Eona her inevitable fate. She would most likely predict it with her _Foreshadowing_ , but there was another reason...no, it was not important. But it kept her alive. For now.

“So if this isn't Darrell...who is it?” One of the foolish guards asked.

My lifeless fingers curled around the end of the linen tarp.

“The one with the fullest quiver is the most likely to survive,” I said. “This is just one more arrow notched for our enemies.”

I lifted the cloth just enough to peer down upon the pale face of Liam Greymane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Woo, that was intense :3 I didn't mean to freak you guys out with this chapter, but I was finishing up War Crimes as I was writing this and that book gave me some really interesting ideas for Sylvanas. 
> 
> Genn: YOU TOOK MY SON!! The dead one, not the blond one still struggling to be a man. BUT YOU STILL TOOK MY FIRST SON!!
> 
> Jaina: Join the club, pal.
> 
> Author: I hope that enthusiasm's for the glimpse of things to come c: this isn't the actual order of things, I'm still playing around with stuff, but I can confirm two epochs coming up soon: 
> 
> "The Drive-in" Featuring Gallywix and a butt ton of backstory.
> 
> "Dreams in Dalaran" Based on an episode of Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, we get a close up of Khadgar and the return of one of our favorite heroes (speaking of this thrilling Netflix series, you won't find any spoilers to that here! Yes, similar events will occur, but the two tales are still wildly different).
> 
>  
> 
> We also have two novels to be released. One of them will be focused on one of Eona's relatives starring Paladin Arthas and Happy Jaina. Another will be a Death Knight AU novel where Khadgar gets stuck in a dimension of undead Azeroth. These two may not be released quickly due to my divided attention, and they also hold spoilers to this story. But I am working on them, and they'll be posted eventually. 
> 
> Khadgar: Do we have to convey the events of that last tale...? They are quite gruesome and my coworkers are scary enough alive. 
> 
> Author: Look! Sylvanas is taking your mana buns!
> 
> Khadgar: WHAT??
> 
> Author: Anyways! Sorry for such a long A/N, but I know I missed a week and you guys deserve to get spoiled c: I'll try to get this stuff out to you guys soon! Love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	9. "More Burned Than Broken." (Epoch II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epoch II: "The Drive-In" 
> 
> Quest Objective: Don't get blown up by fellow coworkers.

~Eona Strider, Temple of the White Tiger~

“Seriously, Kalec: who’s buns are better? Khadgar’s or Jaina’s?”

The blue dragon huffed as we entered the temple. Conversations all across the room echoed off the walls and merged into a choir of sound. _It’s like one of the goblin radios I won when I was twelve (my mom always hates it when I use Foreshadowing to gamble). Tuning into one channel and the next. Only this time, it's not goblins talking about hairstyles and the latest news on stocks. It's a special news bulletin broadcasting the gossip of Azeroth’s racial leaders._

“That is a trick question.” Kalec said as we approached the long table.

“No it's not.”

“It _is_. Besides, I won't risk answering. I don't want to wake up frozen.”

I rolled my eyes as we sat down. “You can't wake up frozen, Kalec.”

Kalec crossed his arms, the feeble wooden chair beneath him creaking from his weight. “Fine. Khadgar’s.”

I smirked and leaned my elbows on the arms of my chair, “It's the frosting, right? Or the cinnamon?”

“Why do you ask me these things?” Kalec squeezed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. I was actually relieved he had started coming to summit meetings, but families had peculiar ways of showing love. This was one of them.

“Because I'm hungry. And I'm your sister, so I'm supposed to make you uncomfortable,” I replied as I nestled deeper into my coat. The pandaren had added pillows to ease the splinter-ridden chairs, but it had as little effect as a tabard against the blizzards of Icecrown.

A throat was cleared eloquently behind us. We looked up at Wrathion, shadowed by his two guards, Left and Right. Despite how ridiculous Wrath’s turban looked at times, it added a few intimidating inches to his height.

His crimson eyes flickered to Kalec. “You're in my spot.”

Kalec gestured towards the wide, open room. “There are no assigned seats. There are plenty of chairs to choose from.”

Wrath, being under a decade old, stood by his original statement and stayed put. “Perhaps. And this is Left. And this is Right. And _that_ is my spot.”

Khadgar approached our group, looked towards Wrath and Kalec, then to me. “You forgot to inform him of Wrath’s nesting area?”

I sighed. “I missed breakfast this morning, I'm not thinking correctly. Kalec, if you give Wrath his spot, I’ll accompany you to a casino after this.”

Khadgar seated himself on my other side, digging into his satchel and offering me one of his famous mana buns. I silently thanked him as I took one and relished in the warm cinnamon that brushed against my tongue.

Wrath had a smug expression on his flawless features as Kalec stood—

And yanked Wrath’s turban off his head as he ran towards the exit.

I covered my mouth, suddenly regretting putting something in it as I stared at all the mess of lucious black locks atop Wrath’s head. Khadgar’s eyes were wide as he stared at Wrath’s unruly curls.

“YOU IMBECILE! I DISOWN YOU AS A FAMILY MEMBER, KALECGOS! GET BACK HERE!” Wrath spouted curses that he probably learned from me as he sprinted across the temple in his parachute pants. His guards’ cheeks flushed as they followed him.

I gasped with a hand to my chest as the once-delightful cinnamon became deadly.

“Perhaps you two are related after all,” Khadgar mused, rubbing my back as I tried to process Wrath’s dramatics and mana buns.

“I’ve kept mine tame,” I croaked, wiping off my fingertips before they went up to my hair.

Khadgar shook his head and leaned back. A small, wistful smile spread across his face from what he said next, “Remember when you were little? You always had those long ponytails and the headbands—always the headbands.”

I winced and pushed back the memories of Outland. “Ponytails are awful for fighting, they give your enemy a handle on you.” ******

Khadgar’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Is that why you never wear it up anymore?”

I nodded. “I use goblin hair products to keep it straight and semi-nice-looking.”

Khadgar hummed, a signal of deep contemplation from him. He was probably thinking about Draenor—the broken one, not the past, lively one dampened with melancholy. I didn't want to discuss it. I fiddled with my slightly-sticky hands and looked around the room for a distraction.

_Speaking of goblins…_

One of the pandaren courtiers chased down Trade Prince Jastor Gallywix with a wooden box in his hands. I watched the two as they exchanged words, squinting to read their lips.

Feather-light touches of pain caressed the back of my skull. My eyes trailed over the box, and the ache of _Foreshadowing_ grew.

_It's not safe._

They weren't too far, just between the table and the entrance. Gallywix reached out for the box with lavish violet gloves as I left Khadgar behind.

“Gallywix—!”

The explosion demolished the network of chatter in the room. I couldn't decide whether my ears were ringing or the sound was still projected across the domed walls—or both.

I sat up from my new spot on the ground, eyes wide as I stared at a soot-covered Gallywix. The courtier’s fur was darkened from the explosion, and he hastily patted out a patch of flames on his shoulder pad.

“Eon!” Khadgar was at my side first and pulled me up from the icy stone tile. My muscles ached from the collision, but nothing felt broken.

“Jastor,” The deep, commanding voice of Go’el interrupted the new wave of silence. Kalec wasn't the only one starting to attend meetings—Go’el had arrived at the last two with his wife, and I knew they wouldn't be the last.

Khadgar helped brush me off as I rose from the dirt-speckled floor. I noticed him resisting a smile when I blew my bangs out of the way, and our attention returned to the Trade Prince and the Ex-Warchief.

Gallywix didn't seem harmed, but slightly irritated at his new makeover. As Go’el towered over him, the goblin sneezed and said, “Long distance relationships, eh? They ain’t pretty, pal.”

 _Long distance relationships?_ It suddenly occurred to me how very little I knew about the goblin race leader.

Go’el’s massive green hills for shoulders squared together as he sized up Gallywix. “Jastor, this is an atmosphere of tranquility and respect. Don't break it.”

Some of the onlookers across the room were starting to lose interest now that the fireworks were over. Anduin stood on the other side of the temple, next to Genn. He didn't bother to hide his concern as I read his rigid posture. His eyes met mine as he took a small step towards me. I shook my head slightly and looked away before anyone else noticed.

“I think it's more burned than broken,” Gallywix’s voice faltered under the intense gaze of Go’el’s azure eyes.

“My apologies,” Go’el bowed his head of dark hair as he finally acknowledged the singed courtier. His gaze flickered to me as well before scowling at Gallywix. “I am your overseer no longer, Gallywix. Don't make me regret it.”

Go’el turned his back on the eye-rolling Trade Prince. Gallywix huffed, attempted to dust off his hat, and stormed out of the temple. The blackened scar upon the tile was the only evidence left of the confrontation.

“I dare say that took a step too _fire_.” Khadgar muttered. “Are you alright?”

“Not after that pun,” I said. “What was that about?”

“Jastor has a toxic relationship with some poor girl named Nessa,” High Chieftain Baine respectfully placed his hand over his torso as he approached us. His headdress of feathers swayed at any light movement the tauren leader made. "He sends her glorious paintings of himself, and she sends him a box of explosives." 

I found myself shifting onto my tiptoes to somehow match Baine’s impossible height. Baine addressed me directly and bluntly as he said, “Strider, with respect, this is not something you want to meddle with. This is Jastor’s personal affair: he’ll deal with it himself.”

“I am not a nosy person.” I remarked, folding my arms defensively.

A sudden cold seemed to wash over Baine as he coughed, “Ahem, Garrosh, ahem.”

The cold caught on to Go’el too as he passed. “Ahem, Theramore, ahem.”

“That's not fair! Now I'm getting bashed for class participation?” I said.

Go’el returned for a second round and added, “Yes, Eona participates in class, but doesn't follow directions.”

My eyes narrowed at Khadgar for support. He simply stared off to the side and started to whistle.

“It's not like I'm invading Gallywix’s life, I just want to know if he’s alright. It could affect his presence at the summit,” I said in a sincere tone. _I'm a consultant—it’s my job to make sure people aren't exploding. Metaphorically and literally._

“Then do so,” Baine’s warning followed, “but if the stock market dips, you will be held accountable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome back Awesome Adventurers!! My birthday was yesterday, so this is my late birthday present to you guys. Now our story is being written by a slightly educated 17 year old. Yay! I hope you guys have an awesome day full of love, fortune and glory!!
> 
>  
> 
> **Sorry for leaving this thingy up above, I didn't mean to confuse you guys. I LOVE YOU ALL AND I WANT YOU TO LIVE HAPPY SAFE LIVES SO QUICK STORY TIME. So I attended a self defense meeting at my school the other day and it was ran by a police officer. She told us that the police had had interviewed criminals and kidnappers for what they look for in a target and the most common answer way pony tails! It gives criminals a handle on their victim. You might already know this, but I thought it was important to let you guys know and it adds a realistic touch to the story. So whenever you have to make a quick trip at night or you're visiting a shady neighborhood, avoid pony tails or braids. I want all of you to be safe and happy, so I just wanted to mention this c: take care of yourselves, Awesome Adventurers!


	10. "My Hostile Mean Girls"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Be a nosy person.

~The Nearest Pandaren Inn with Food~

“Thanks for agreeing to me with me,” I said. We sat at a table outside with a view of the Kun Lai mountain range. Their peaks were sprinkled with snow like Khadgar’s powdered mana buns. When the passing yaks were silent and the chatter died down in the inn, I could almost hear the faint whistle of the wind through the rocky terrain.

I looked across the table at the two most reasonable people I knew. “Reasonable” was not a term used to describe Sylvanas, nor Jaina as of late. Jaina was stuck in Dalaran on magi business while Sylvanas had some sort of “secret project.” I had to make some new arrangements.

“Did Ji send you—? I mean, it's okay. You don't have to tell me,” Aysa Cloudsinger winked one of her round green eyes at me.

Go’el’s wife, Aggra, sat on Aysa’s left with a plate of Valley Stir Fry. Aggralan’s dark hair tumbled down her muscular shoulders as she leaned on the table. I knew her since Outland, and she reminded me of my mother.

Aggra bowed her head kindly and her strong voice followed, “Our thanks for the invitation. It's nice to have another reason to visit this continent besides those boring meetings. They fire up Go’el too much—I wish he would use that kind of passion to wash the dishes or watch our children. It's not babysitting if they’re your own kids!”

“How are your kids?” I asked. Aggra and Go’el had two children now—I had met Durak a few years back, and I couldn't wait to meet his newborn sibling.

“Last I checked they were alive...let’s move on.” Aggra cleared her throat and changed the subject. “How are you, Aysa?”

Aysa had a calm aura to her that I assumed was forged from many hours of meditation. Her words always came out measured and at a fixed pace like rocks in a sturdy cobblestone road. She folded up the sleeves to her blue monk tunic so they wouldn't dip into her meal as she spoke, “Very well. I am actually grateful for the summit meetings—when I’m not here or visiting...nevermind, I spend my time in the Cathedral District of Stormwind. I keep running into King Anduin, and things have been...awkward since I won our last sparring session.”

My ears pricked up when Andy’s name was mentioned. I heard a rumor long ago that Aysa sparred with Anduin’s father...I still wondered if Andy ever got the letter I sent after Varian’s death.

“He’s skilled as a diplomat, I’ll give him that. But as a warrior,” Aggra’s eyes widened and she looked down at her steaming meal.

“He has other endearing qualities,” I blurted before I could stop the words. _Dammit._

“ ‘Endearing’?” Aysa’s grin was huge. Aggra raised one of her slender eyebrows at me like a torturing knife.

“Y-yes, endearing. It's an adjective,” I said, feeling like I was only burying myself with each sentence. I steeled myself and pointed the conversation in a new direction, “There are other race leaders at the summit. What’s your opinion on the Gallywix affair from this morning?”

“Not as _endearing_ as King Wrynn, but quite entertaining.” Aggra replied, and watched carefully as I shielded my features with an unreadable veil. “You’re thinking of mixing in, Eon?”

My mask broke. “I'm not a nosy person!”

“You are a rogue, aren't you? Isn't that in the job description, of sorts?” Aysa said, her wisdom working against me.

_I really miss Jaina and Sylvanas. I miss my hostile mean girls._

I learned quick that all of Aysa’s smiles were wide, but the one she wore now was apologetic. “Despite the goblins being gross and creepily flirtatious...I always admired their intellect and ambition. And if the Trade Prince is in charge of them, perhaps someone should step in and help him.”

Aggra sighed and set down her chopsticks. “She’s right. They may break every environmental law known to orc, but they saved Go’el’s life, and they play a great part in Azeroth’s capitalism.”

“So what do I do?” I asked. _A consultant consulting other consultants for advice. That's confusing._

“Um, well, it is still Gallywix’s personal life.” Aggra said, gesturing with a muscular hand. I felt an invisible gust of wind at the gesture, like the elements embodied Aggra’s every move.  

“If you are going to do this, do so politely. Investigate, not intrude,” Aysa nearly radiated years of advanced monk training in her last words. Even Aggra approved and nodded at the notion.

“Thank you for your thoughts, Azeroth is lucky to have two brilliant ladies are attending the summit,” I replied as the two shyly smiled and waved the compliment away. “Do you have any idea where Gallywix usually is?”

“Hmm,” Aggra munched on her stir fry as she looked up at the frigid mountains, “normally he would be at his estate, but the IRS is still looking for him, I believe. I do remember one pastime he had that Go’el mentioned once.”

 

~Bilgewater Harbor~

I followed the path of green lights buzzing with electricity. The light reflected off the tiny grains of sand like jaded crystals on the beach. In the dim glow, I saw the outline of a clearing filled with towels and mounted adventurers. A flickering screen illuminated the rocks in a grayish tint and speakers spat static.

I searched the silhouettes for any sign of the Trade Prince and the skeletal form of his spider tank. He was in the center of the gathering as his headlight pointed towards the screen.

I tiptoed across picnic blankets and veered around mounted animals until I stood before the Trade Prince.

“Woah!” Gallywix jumped when he noticed me. “Thought you were one of the lights. Ey, you’re that redhead from the summit. Whaddya want? An apology? A loan? I ain’t giving either.”

“Course not, just here to watch a film,” I looked back at the blank screen that was starting to display opening credits. “I also wanted to make sure you were alright. I know that when I get blown up at my job, and it happens more often than I like, I'm not always in the best mood.”

“Pfft!” Gallywix didn't even bother to lower his voice as the first scene began. “ ‘Tis but a scratch, Red.”

A small spark of hope bubbled inside me. “You’ve seen _Monty Python?_ ”

Gallywix was a little startled at first, then he let out a cackle. “Finally, an educated member of the Horde. Come up here, I got room.”

I hoisted myself up onto one of the metal legs and faced the film. Gallywix leaned over in his seat to be closer.

“Not a lot of you elves enjoy the classics,” Gallywix replied, and a symphony of shushes across the beach followed.

I shrugged in the dark and responded in a lower voice, “Maybe because the classics make some of them look ancient. But I liked that movie, that was my first impression of what Stormwind was like.”

“Ha!”

Another round of shushes followed.

Gallywix threw some popcorn in his mouth and gestured towards the screen. “You seen this one before?”

I studied the scene playing out and nodded slowly. Gallywix spoke with a mouth full of popcorn, “You ever catch the easter egg at the beginning?”

“You mean the name of the bar?” I said, thanking the Trade Prince as he offered me popcorn. He nodded and leaned back in his cushioned seat.

For a long moment, I let myself sit there and enjoy the moment. I hadn't done anything like this in years, much less met someone that understood half the references I knew. I’d heard many things about Trade Prince Gallywix, and while I didn't trust him at all, he knew how to have a good time.

“So...is everything alright? About this morning, I mean,” I added.

“Couldn't be better. Who else can say their relationship is full of fireworks and be truthful?” In the glare of the film, I saw Gallywix dip his tophat towards me. When I didn't answer, the goblin groaned, “Don't give me that look, Red! I’ve had tons of relationships worse than that. My own mother tried to kill me twice!”

I forgot the film and turned back to him. “What?”

For the first time since the film started, Gallywix’s voice was soft. “She was a pirate, and she left when I was too young to remember. I have a portrait of her in my house: _The Goblin Lisa_. Maybe she didn't see me grow up, but now that painted face stares at me every damn day. Those oil pastels knows me better than she ever did.”

The story was a simple one, but it chilled me to the core. Gallywix didn't seem too bothered by it; he was a businessman trained to never reveal his private motives.

“You probably have a better relationship with that painting than I do with mine,” I murmured. I didn't even think Gallywix heard until he nudged me with his elbow.

“What's the story with yours, Red? Did she snap and try to kill you too?” When Gallywix talked, popcorn crumbs trickled down his open vest and his rings gleamed from grease.

“I'm surprised she didn’t. She was stranded on Outland, pregnant with me,” I said, my voice straining. _And I left her there._

“Sounds like a hard ass,” Gallywix replied.

“A little...actually, yeah, a lot,” I squeezed my bottom lip between two fingers, halting the smile that wanted to stretch across my face. “But she cared, so much...I wish I would have realized that sooner.”

I had left Outland around when I was fourteen, but my mother had insisted on staying. From grief? Unfinished business? She never told me why. I left because I thought there was nothing left for me there...and it took me too long to realize what I had left behind.

“And your old man?” Gallywix said. Part of me was a little surprised that he wanted to know these things. Making connections was essential to his profession, I supposed.

“He wasn't really around that much when I was growing up,” I replied. _But that was never his fault._ I had Khadgar, so my father's absence wasn't as difficult. Khadgar was nearly inseparable to my mother.

“So we’re the sort-of single parent kids?” Gallywix asked.

I smirked when I looked up at him. “Sort of.”

Gallywix offered me another round of popcorn, and we returned our attention to the screen.

“Oh my...I have a bad feeling about that zeppelin.” Someone replied on the mount beside us.

I glanced over and jumped. “ _Prophet Velen?_ ”

When the elderly Draenei’s violet eyes fell upon me, he chuckled. “Don't mind me.”

Gallywix peeked over my head at the Alliance intruder. “If I wanted an old grandpa, I could’ve attached a wine bottle to a fishing pole and lured Lor’themar over to Kalimdor!”

“Isn't it highly dangerous for you to be here?” I whispered, casting a glance over at the dimly-lit faces in the audience.

“If someone would like to attempt to remove me, they may do so...although I do not advise it.” The Prophet replied in his usual serene tone. Even when seated below us on horned elekk, I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze.

“The Draenei used to have a plethora of holographic films, but those are long lost to us now. These are a suitable replacement,” Prophet Velen gestured at the screen with long fingers gnarled with age.

The three of us sat in silence. A few minutes later, the zeppelin on screen crashed into a mountain. Gallywix and I slowly looked over at the Prophet as he hummed in response.

“I am a little surprised you did not catch that, Scout Strider. King Anduin told me of your own remarkable prophetic abilities.” Prophet Velen replied.

I was aware of how Gallywix could see my silhouette, and became very still. “King Anduin mentioned those?”

“Oh yes. He has spoken fondly of your talents.”

“Oh…”

“For hours on end, sometimes.”

“Oh?”

“He gets very passionate when he starts.”

I sunk back into the shadows, hiding my expression in the dark. If Sylvanas saw my face, she would have used it as target practice. “That’s...very nice to know.”

“Congrats, Red. You have a stalker. If you wanna send him some explosions, I know a guy—” Gallywix started.

“No thanks!”

“ _Shh!”_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi Awesome Adventurers! I hope you enjoyed this one. Everyone deserves their own rational/radical support group XD I'm working on the next chapter now, so hopefully I can get that out today too. Stay tuned to find out what happens when a mage, an elderly draenei, and a trade prince walk into a jungle c: love, fortune and glory to you!!


	11. "The Holy Grail Wrapped in Happy Fun Candy"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Go on a vacation with your coworkers.

~The Valley of Four Winds~

“Velen was at a drive-in?” As if summoned by his name mentioned so many times the previous day, Anduin decided to stop by this morning. It wasn't too unusual—after Gilneas, Andy wanted to catch up on things and my home seemed like the easiest place to speak freely. The neighbors had seen more bizarre things than Anduin.

“I know—and a Horde one at that. Someone told me once that age causes an illness that makes people feel invincible, and I think the Prophet’s been infected,” I mused, standing from my seat at the table and collecting our finished mugs. Anduin chuckled and looked around the small, sunlit confines of my home. Light crept through the windows with eager fingers and caressed every surface.

I set the two mugs in the kitchen before I looked back in the other room. Anduin was less sparkly than usual; his bulky armor had been replaced with the blue embroidered robes of a diplomat. When he stood, he reminded me of a lean, marble pillar draped in azure silk. But pillars were tall, towering and commanding. Anduin wasn't that. He was just…

“You have a very calming presence,” I said, leaning against the connection of the two rooms as I watched him. It was a very blunt comment, I knew that. Anduin was a king, and while he fulfilled the royal appearance, he didn't exert any haughtiness or arrogance. It was one of the things I always liked about him.

Anduin grinned. “It must be a priest trait.”

I raised two fingers to my bottom lip, lightly pinching it as I slightly shook my head. “No...it's an Anduin trait. It's who you are.”

Andy turned his attention to another part of the house before I could read his reaction. He was drawn to one of the corners that brightened up the room as much as the sun. Alcohol was part of pandaren culture, so in each corner unoccupied with shelves was a wine rack. I had filled the criss-crossed wooden panels with glistening crystals instead of liquor.

“Have you tried to create holograms on your crystals?” Andy replied, studying the assortment of colorful shards. They twinkled like stars collected from the night.

I joined him by the wine rack as the sunlight brought out every bright, fluorescent hue. He showed no remnant to my previous statement. Perhaps I had said too much.

“No. I’d love to experiment—I haven't played with these lately, with everything going on.” I replied, clasping my hands together over my blue bodice stamped with pink flowers.

“I think you could,” Anduin shot a smile my way, “from what I’ve heard, you’re quite the intellectual...especially in the _fine arts_.”

My eyes narrowed at the particular wording. When I glanced back, the explanation clicked. “How did you...you read my papers?”

Andy’s thin lips were graced with another smile. “And a few of your compositions. Your work is extraordinary.”

After my time with Anduin in Pandaria, I was grounded in Northrend with a year’s time on my hands. I took a few classes at Dalaran...I didn't want to admit out loud that it was Andy’s scholarly interests that inspired me to do it. But I was glad: I had more fun with my studies than I thought I would, and it gave me an excuse to wander from Alexstrasza’s side.

_Prophet Velen wasn't lying...I wonder if he actually got my letter following Varian’s passing after all—_

“Is that...Wrathion? And Kalec?”

_Oh crap._

Anduin peeked out of a window overlooking the grassy fields. I joined him with a scoff twisting my features before I saw them. Kalec had refused to return Wrathion’s turban, and the two chased one another in circles across the lawn.

“Yes,” I finally stated, heaving a sigh and angling the hot air at my drooping bangs. “It's actually very dangerous to be here right now, they’re having a feud.”

Anduin nodded. I huffed as Wrath tackled Kalec and the two crashed onto the ground in a heap of punches and shouts. _This is not endearing behavior—dammit! I have to stop using that word._

“What?” Andy said. It was a while after my last comment, piercing the realm of my thoughts.

I glanced back at the empty room, then at him. Anduin’s face was illuminated by the light from the outdoors, revealing his puzzlement. I replied, “I didn't say anything.”

“Oh, sorry…”

We stared out at the shades of yellow and green when something shiny caught my eye. I leaned in to look at a clump of rocks clustered together.

 _Stars._ I quickly thought up an excuse, “I should probably mix in with my brothers’ feud before they terrorize the natives.”

Andy understood my silent plea and clasped a glowing hearthstone from his pocket. “Right. I’ll leave you to it then, may I stop by later?”

“Of course.”

I waved as the stone in his hand shined brighter, and his form was bathed in light. Anduin faded before my eyes, the floorboards crying out in the absence of him. I turned away and waited on the other side of the door, tapping my foot.

Gallywix burst through the entrance. “AHA!”

“Uh…” The Trade Prince looked up at my expecting gaze. He was wearing his usual violet garb from yesterday, a spyglass locked in his fist.

“May I help you with something?” I replied, leaning back against the rack of crystals.

Velen’s head popped in next as he bowed to peer through the door. “This is a lovely hearth, Scout Strider—oh, crystals!”

“I caught you! I caught you red-handed, Red!” Gallywix snapped and pointed a finger with plum-colored nail polish at me.

“Hello to you, too. What is this about?” I asked as I crossed my arms.

Gallywix quickly made himself at home as he hoisted himself into one of the chairs and leaned his legs on the table. Prophet Velen ducked his head to enter as his curiosity was drawn to the crystals.

“You’re having an affair with the Alliance’s mascot: the golden retriever, Wrynn,” Gallywix mused with a smirk, setting his spyglass on top of some sheet music like a flag on conquered soil.

“No I'm not—” I started, but the Trade Prince cut me off. “Blah blah blah, love hurts. But maybe I can pardon you star-crossed lovers if you help me out.”

Nothing was going on between Andy and I now (history told a different story), and his visits weren’t romantic. Our time together was usually spent talking about summit meetings and Genn’s desperate need for anger management. But the accusation still made me queasy for some reason.

“I believe what the Trade Prince is trying to do is plead for your assistance,” The Prophet replied, gasping as he looked at a shelf full of family photos.

I shut the gaping door and snatched one of the crystals as I crossed the room. I offered it to the Prophet, and when his curiosity lay elsewhere, relocated a picture of my father behind a portrait of Khadgar.

“You don't have to blackmail me with incorrect information for my aid,” I said, sinking down into a chair across from Gallywix.

“Heh, yeah. You expect me to hire you?” Gallywix snorted. “I'm not a fan of filling out paychecks.”

He was being ridiculous and beyond rude. But in an odd way, Gallywix’s conniving nature reminded me of Sylvanas. It made the waves of irritation more manageable, especially accompanied with lighthearted memories of last night.

_Not to mention he's my coworker that I have to face every day, and if I piss him off, he has access to deadly explosives. I don't see any wiggle room here._

“I'm not asking you for money. What do you need my help with?” I asked. Prophet Velen joined us at the table, his long fingers caressing the sides of the blue shard. A satisfied hum left his lips as he became immersed in the object like a child with a new toy.

“Remember that painting I mentioned yesterday? _The Goblin Lisa?_ ” Gallywix’s arms tightened across his chest, making his stomach bulge out more.

When I nodded, the Trade Prince’s gaze dropped. “It was stolen last night.”

Part of me wondered why he even kept the painting; his tone was so condescending when we discussed it. Or perhaps I missed something. Nevertheless, I took a deep breath and leaned forward, “Do we have any leads?”

The goblin leader’s eyes widened as he looked off in the distance and glanced back at me. “You’ll find it?”

“Of course.” I replied. _Do I have a choice? Besides, I'm going through Sylvanas withdrawals. I need this._

“I'm not paying you.” He sniffed.

“Look around. Do you think I want money?” I said, gesturing at our incredibly modest surroundings filled with priceless momentos from my family. Yes, the crystals were valuable, but every dragon was allowed to hoard something. Gold was not among my desires.

Gallywix took another look around. “Alright, Red. Let’s get to work.”

Gallywix’s hands vanished beneath the table and reappeared with scrolls. As he spread them out across the table, I awkwardly raised my hand. “I have a question before we start.”

The skin above Gallywix’s eye where his brow should have been creased, signaling to me. I looked at the Prophet, “Why are you here, Prophet?”

“Please, call me Velen,” The elderly draenei bowed his head and his long beard brushed the top of the counter.

I smiled a little before Gallywix answered, “Gandalf the Gray is here ‘cause he was at my afterparty last night! He was there when the painting was stolen.”

“So it was stolen at a party,” I gathered some of the unused sheet music and opened an ink bottle. “What did you see?”

“I saw a cluster of human men wearing bandanas that left in a hurry,” Velen recalled, his thumb sliding across the side of the crystal as he ventured deep in thought. “They looked very suspicious.”

_Gallywix had humans at his party? He may be an important figure of the Horde, but he doesn't discriminate much towards Alliance races. I suppose that works best for business._

“Then how come you didn't stop ‘em?”

“They were swift! My legs don't run like they used to,” Velen said with a hint of tiredness.

Gallywix huffed. “ ‘Course they don't, Dumbledore.”

“Can you remember anything else? Were the bandanas marked? Or did you notice any other details besides clothing that can't be changed?” I said, scribbling down notes with a quill. I blew my bangs away from my face as they snuck forward from behind my ear.

“Hum, all humans look the same to me, if I am to be honest. But their bandanas did have a particular emblem sewn on the side.” Velen’s thick, white eyebrows creased. I slid him a piece of sheet music and he drew the insignia.

Gallywix recognized it before I did and groaned. “Bloodsail pirates, that’s just perfect. _The Goblin Lisa_ is probably melting somewhere in Stranglethorn Vale.”

“But we have a lead on the painting; most of the Bloodsail are in Stranglethorn. I can ask Khadgar to portal us there,” I offered.

Gallywix’s shoulders slumped with a hint of solemnness. “As long as it don't cost me anything, I don't care. We’re searching that tropical paradise top to bottom for that painting.”

 

~Stranglethorn Vale~

“This tropical paradise has a lot more bugs than I thought...and bloodthirsty tigers,” Khadgar held up his wooden staff to combat the glossy twine of spiderwebs.

I had traveled across many parts of the Eastern Kingdoms, but I rarely visited the jungles of Stranglethorn. Compared to the northern part of the continent full of human and elven history, most of Stranglethorn kept it's secrets in troll ruins and the ripe green wilds.

“If we come by one of those tigers, any chance you can skin one, Red? They’d make a groovy rug to overprice,” Gallywix replied, positioning himself behind Khadgar so that the mage would clear the path for him.

With the buzz of insects and the sticky humidity, it was like being inside the rumbling stomach of a huge beast. I left my green coat behind because of the heat and endured the lava-hot sting of mosquito bites. I was in front of Khadgar, whacking at the overgrowth with my blades as he peered at a map.

“It says we’re close to the encampment—” Khadgar mused.

“HOLY CRAP THERE’S A HUGE SPIDER ON YOUR HEAD!” Gallywix shouted.

“BY THE LIGHT!”

“GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF! IT'S THE NETHERSHARD KARMA ALL OVER AGAIN!”

I turned just as Khadgar started to furiously swat at his gray head of hair. Velen and Gallywix took cover behind me as something came flying off Khadgar’s head.

All three men peeked over my shoulder as the spider landed on the mossy ground. With little emotion, I tugged my pistol from the depths of my leather vest and pointed it at the orange-striped critter. My party flinched at the bang that followed, and nearby birds fled the bushy treetops.

“I grew up on Outland. This place is the holy grail wrapped in happy fun candy compared to there.” I remarked, sliding my weapon back into a hidden compartment in my sweat-stained clothes. _Technically Khadgar was on Outland with me, but his mother didn't teach him how to punch or make a death stare._

I turned my back on the downed spider and faced the three. “Are we done?”

They shook their heads, a new expression flickering across their faces. I frowned when Khadgar shook his head and pointed behind me.

A knife slid underneath my chin. I stared out of the corner of my eye at the Bloodsail pirate. “We’re just getting started, lass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi Awesome Adventurers and welcome back! Sorry I couldn't get this out to you guys sooner, it wasn't completely finished last weekend and you deserve the best, so I took a little extra time on this one. Some other good news: my last final is on Monday this week, so I will be free!! Yay! I can't wait to sit down with my laptop and enjoy this tropical paradise with you all c; love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	12. "I'm a Redhead, I Scream Violence"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Play nice with bad guys.

“I'm suing all of ya, and taking your stupid possessions! I own your mounts, your light coin purses, and your cheap shivering timbers!” Gallywix spat upon the searing hot sand and I half-expected the saliva to sizzle. I squinted against the harsh glare reflected off the Stranglethorn beach we were escorted along. The carpets of gold were laid out before the blue waves, like a long dress that fluttered across the surface. I gazed longingly at the warm banks, wanting to feel the gentle caress of the water with my bound hands. Beaches were my favorite part of Azeroth, and despite our situation, I couldn't help but admire the scenery. 

“Quit your blabbering, or we’ll throw ya down to Davy Jones’ locker!” The golden-toothed human remarked beside me. Khadgar shuddered behind me as drops of saliva spat when the pirate spoke. 

“And we ain’t givin’ you any limes, either!” A Bloodsail tauren glanced back from the front. 

“Limes?” I asked. 

“Arr! They battle the worst enemy at sea!” A female gnome replied as her pink pigtails bobbled. 

“And that is?”

I wanted to cringe, but I held my ground as the human leaned close, teeth bared and glinting in the sun. “Gum disease.”

“Hmm.” Khadgar’s deep voice rumbled in his throat. “Have you ever considered flossing?”

“Bah! Who has time for that when yer riding the horizon and a parrot can talk for ye?”

_Wow. And I thought I had a rough upbringing._

The Bloodsail halted close to the sighing waves. The pink-haired gnome left her post by Velen and faced a palm tree with a clutter of bushes. 

I listened closely to the clicks and whirs that followed. My eyes narrowed as it seemed almost... _familiar?_  

“What is that?” Khadgar asked, leaning forward only for the human to block Khadgar with his own staff. 

I answered for her. “Naga machinery.” 

The naga were serpent-like creatures that flourished among the banks of Azeroth and the swampy confines of Zangarmarsh on Outland. The dark metal machines were usually used for controlling large amounts of water—I didn't know they had some on Azeroth, or perhaps the Bloodsail took it from the other world?

The gnome nodded, looking up from the parted greenery to confirm my suspicions. Nestled in the rubbery leaves was a set of nozzles and levers. “Aye. You’d make a fine pirate, lass.” 

An undead pirate who gave off a putrid stench in the hot sun agreed. “Well, X marks the spot. How’d you get that mark on your nose?”

I’d forgotten about the tiny X-shaped scar on my nose. I glanced down at it temporarily, then answered, “Ettins with sharp nails. Nasty business.” 

The human leaned close again, this time with his finger raised. “It looks so...lifelike.” 

I edged away this time with a glare. “You boop my nose and I punch you in the face. Captive or not.” 

“Eona, play nice!” Khadgar warned.

I blew my bangs away with more force than necessary and settled for a lethal scowl. _I'm a redhead, I scream violence._

The Bloodsail fanned out around us, digging for something in the sand. The outline of a silver platform poked out of the sand, searing bright beneath the fuming rays of sun. 

The gnome pirate nodded and yanked one of the levers. She scuttled onto the platform as the water from the surf churned. _Foreshadowing_ struck in the back of my head with the jabbing force of a thousand forks. Gallywix let out a shout as the tide rose up. The tiny tsunami roared over our heads. 

And crashed down onto the beach. 

I expected to be whisked off to sea, drowning in the magnificent yet deadly waves. Instead I sat up and looked around my new dark surroundings as they groaned and cried out in pain. 

The sound of a match cursing as it lit up was followed by flames eating hungrily at the end of a torch. The Bloodsail tauren’s face was bathed in the orange as he said, “Welcome to the lair of the Bloodsail.” 

We were on the inside of a gnome-made submarine, furnished with wooden staircases and eerie red lighting. Torches illuminated where flashing lights couldn't, and revealed the clusters of pirates settled above us on high ramparts.

Gallywix whistled, and the sound carried across the domed iron walls of the hull. “Let the IRS try to catch me in this tin can.” 

But the tin can wasn't all metal. As I stood, I glanced at the tiny round windows. The submarine was at the bottom of the ocean, lurking with sharks and other secrets of the sea. _So much for sneaking out of here..._

The undead woman nodded, her unmatching jaw dipping down on one side. “Those buffoons in Booty Bay underestimate us. Come, our leader will decide what to do with you.” 

The gnome stayed behind to fiddle with the other set of naga machinery as our party was forced onward. Bloodsail members leaned on the metal railings glaring down at us with flasks clutched in their fists. 

“Oh my,” Velen was the only one who didn't seem troubled by our new environment. His hooves clattered against the metal floor as his head craned to take in the massive hull. 

_The one time Jaina doesn't appear at lunch, and we end up in a ship underwater. She would love this—speaking of Jaina…?_

“Um…what is that?” I bit my lip to vanquish a snicker as we crossed something in the center of the room. A statue of my best friend towered over me in glimmering marble. It seemed more like a shrine with all of the candles and fanart nestled at the bottom of the pedestal. But something seemed wrong with the statue—every once in a while, purple light radiated off the stone.

“A shrine to the Bloodsail’s most beloved heroine; Lady Jaina Proudmoore, of Theramore, and of Kul’Tiras.” The human pirate replied as the other two paid their respects. Khadgar and I exchanged a look and our gazes returned to the statue. An amused smirk rested on my face. _I can't wait to tell Jaina about her army of lime-loving fanboys._

“The Lady of the sea,” The tauren kneeled before the statue as violet light twitched about it's form.

“What is that light coming off of the statue?” Khadgar asked, his expression turning uneasy at the flashes of lilac.

“The statue was made from the ruins of Theramore, out of respect to what our Lady lost,” The undead bowed her head. Khadgar’s eyes widened with an almost fearful glint. _The mana bomb..._

“We also stole a precious artifact from the icy slopes of Northrend to honor our Lady’s painful history. Behold,” The human proudly raised his arms towards something glimmering that sat at the base of the statue. “The forsaken brooch of _Prince Arthas Menethil_ , bearin’ the crest of Lordaeron. He wore that when he kissed Lady Proudmoore...and when he cut off the heads of children in _Stratholme_.” 

Gallywix’s eyes went as wide as coins as our eyes settled upon the adornment of the famous wearer. I covered my mouth with both bound hands to hold in a gasp as I studied the intricate golden design. _A relic of Jaina’s past. Arthas...if anyone deserves to keep that crest, it's her._

_But after all these years, would she want it? Or would she discard it as a fragment of a faraway past?_

The pirates left the glitching statue in peace and we approached one of the cabin doors at the end of the hull. The two guards that stood at attention were the only orderly thing I’d noticed about the pirates as they saluted in sync. With a word from the tauren, they knocked on the door. 

“Come in.” 

The metal door whined as it opened. A human woman sat at a desk in the center, feet propped up and glass in hand. We were pushed in not long after as the woman sat there in inquisitive silence. Eventually she gestured with her drink at the guards, “Close the door.” 

My eyes narrowed at her request as the pirates gave her puzzled looks. “Ma’am, are ye sure—?”

“I'm in charge here. Do as I say.” 

The Bloodsail obeyed and our small party was left alone with the leader. As she sipped her alcohol, her green curls tumbled down her shoulder. My eyes were drawn to the awkward way she sipped from her glass, and realized that it was from the tiny tusks in the corners of her lips. 

_She must be half troll. When the Dark Portal reopened, I had a half-troll friend that I used to spend time with...I haven't thought about that in years…_

“ ‘Names Tera, daughter of Fleet Admiral Tethys. What can I do ya for?” She asked with a smirk, the hazel liquid sloshing around in her glass. 

“Do forgive our intrusion,” Velen was the first to speak, taking a step towards the desk. As he hovered many feet above Tera, I still pondered why she insisted being alone in a room with us. 

“We were looking for a painting called _The Goblin Lisa_ , and I believe your organization knows it's whereabouts. Would you tell us where it is?” Velen asked politely.

Tera just stared at him for a minute. Then she slowly started to nod. “Yeah, mate. My Buccaneers found it and they’re selling it this evening in the lower ramparts of Booty Bay.”

All of us gaped at her except for Velen. _What…?_

Velen smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Gallywix was the first to recover his voice, “Uh, what just happened?” 

Velen blinked like he had been shook from a daze. “Priests have the ability to control the lesser minded, or in this case, those who are too intoxicated to put up a defense. A very useful trait.” 

I thought of Anduin. “Do all priests have that ability...?” 

“Yes,” Velen confirmed. Tera was still in a state of limbo beside him, looking off into space with her drink teetering in her grasp. 

“Then why the hell didn't you use that trick on our captors? Or on my party crashers?” Gallywix demanded, his flabs of skin jiggling from his outburst. 

“Because our captors did not have the information that we sought, but they could lead us to it. As for the pirates at the party…” Velen’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of violet. “I was also too...intoxicated...to do much about it.” 

“So...how do we get out of here now?” I said. 

My companions froze. We stared at Velen the Mastermind for our answer. 

“I did not think that part through,” He admitted sheepishly, the blush on his cheeks growing. 

“Can't you sneak us out?” Khadgar asked me. 

“I could, but that's also taking into consideration that we don't disturb anyone when we’re hidden by the shadows. Besides, the only way out of here is that naga control panel,” I said, crossing the room to sit on the edge of Tera’s desk. A thought came to me and I looked over at her, “By the way, is the code to get out the same as the one to get in?”

Tera nodded, “Yep. Had to, we have too many simpletons coming and going.” 

I felt a little guilty for taking advantage of her knowledge in her state and added, “Thanks.” 

“So we need a diversion,” Khadgar had burned the twine that trapped his wrists and now stroked his stubbled chin. I was vaguely reminded of the beard he had for years on Outland as he did so. “That statue of Lady Proudmoore is pulsing with deadly arcane energy. I could tap into that, but it might also tear apart the ship…”

No one else offered up an alternative. I picked at the knots wrapping my wrists together before Khadgar gently lifted them up and undid them himself. Velen stared up at the ceiling, as if asking the Light itself for an answer. And Gallywix stared at all of us like we were his idiotic employees. 

“That's the only plan we got?” Gallywix finally asked. 

We nodded and he sighed, “We’re screwed.” 

~*~

“Alright, we’re done here. Get them out of my sight,” Tera remarked as the door was wrenched open. I slipped through, goggles on, fueled by adrenaline, as I dashed across the floor. I could already hear the confrontation Khadgar had started behind me as I ran. 

_Get to the naga controller, that's my job—wait!_

I made it halfway across the room and my feet had mechanically stopped on their own. I knew I this was the worst place to linger; Khadgar would be using the arcane-drenched statue any moment now. But that wasn't what caught my interest. 

_The brooch of Arthas._

There was no one else around the statue. I kneeled down so I was eye-level with the infamous object. The faded form of my fingers tingled when they touched the dead-cold surface of the brooch. 

_Yes! It's not considered stealing if you’re taking it from bad guys, right?_

I was already burying the shiny object in my pack when a shadow rolled over me. I tensed as I looked up at another human pirate.

With a slow inhale I steeled myself and took a small step backwards. _It's alright—he’s human, he’s oblivious, he can't see me…_

Then his form started to grow in a way I knew all too well. His nose stretched into a snout, and his red shirt ripped as claws sprouted from his hands. 

_...But he can smell me. Oh Stars._

The worgen pirate swiped at the darkness surrounding me. I dodged, but I released a tiny yelp as I did so. The long, black ears on his head flattened as he stared straight at where I was located. 

_Just knock him out! Sap him and run!_

I drew Sylvanas’ knife, twisting the weapon to where the flat part of the blade was showing—

The statue of Jaina Proudmoore exploded beside me.

The light was blinding and bright enough to fill the entire submarine. The air I breathed seemed more _electric_ than before, filled with arcane energies. It popped and sizzled against my skin like a chaotic breeze. 

I was still on my feet, and looked over at the worgen. He looked...the same. The exact same, actually. Same facial expression, same raised claw. I rose on my tip toes and poked his nose with my finger. At the lightest touch, his form crumbled into dust. 

I gasped and staggered back. _This is what Jaina endured...what she suffered, on a large scale, with people she knew and loved as victims…_

I fled the pile of dust that was so much more than a stain on the floor, focusing on my previous mission. Energy spouted from the statue at whim, bursting into little explosions of light across the ship. The victims did not get up again. 

There was a hum in the air even as I made it to the corner of the room. The atmosphere seemed to crackle with new deadly intent, a sinister hiss whispered in my ear as I looked over the controls. I studied the switches and knobs with forced concentration, feeling Arthas Menethil’s brooch pulling down my pack. 

_The gnome. I saw the gnome use it with my own eyes—_

“Eon!” 

I glanced over my shoulder and I wished I hadn't. Khadgar and a mighty Velen carrying a petrified Gallywix stumbled over the minefield of arcane explosions. There were few pirates left to thwart them, but a new enemy had arose. The arcane had attacked the walls, creating cracks and tearing holes in tough steel. Water invaded the submarine and worked together with the arcane to snuff out the last of life. 

 _Dammit, he's right: this_ is _the nethershard karma all over again._

I looked back at the controls, tugging at the hairs on my head as I examined the panel. I had used this technology when I was young, years ago when I snuck out to the swamp. That seemed so long ago now…

“Hey! What are ya waiting for, Red? WE’RE DYING HERE!” Gallywix’s voice wailed in my ears as he and Velen made it across the arcane field. Before I looked up to check on Khadgar, a hand fell on my shoulder. 

“You can do this,” Khadgar assured me, squeezing my arm a little. There was a smear of blood on his face, likely from the pirates at the door. I had seen worse on him. 

I turned back to the controls. Water approached our corner of the ship, flickering with the life-threatening tendrils of arcane. I turned a few knobs and I pulled the lever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi Awesome Adventurers, notice something different? c: We're using chapter notes now like I'm supposed to! Yay! Sorry I didn't use these before, I used Wattpad in the past and it doesn't have any cool, helpful writing tools. And I'm usually in a rush to get chapters up on this site and then do the longer publishing process on Tumblr. But I figured it out, and I fixed the rest of the A/N's so it doesn't mess with the book's word count. It's a little shorter than before, but I'm sure we can get that number back up there c: Another thing: segment sounds like I'm giving you math homework, so I'm renaming the sections of the book "Epochs" (it's the smallest detail in the world, it's not really a big deal but I wanted to inform you guys anyway). And we are also releasing a sneak peak of Protector of the Present today, first chapter to be posted next week! So there's all of that cool stuff, I had a Sylvanas epiphany that I think you guys are really going to like and I can't wait to show you c: love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	13. "A Putz and a Shady Business Man"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Master supply and demand.

I rolled over, little bits of sand clinging to my damp clothes as I looked out at Stranglethorn’s beach. The coast reminded me of a treasure chest with slopes of pearls and gold coins. 

_Who knew being a reckless teenager would pay off years later? If only my mother knew that._

Gallywix squeezed water out of his top hat as he sat up on the beach. “I don't know who’s gonna pay for my drycleaning, but it ain’t me.” 

Salt water burned my nostrils as I kneeled on the shore. Khadgar was closer to the water with his cobalt robes lined with foam. 

_And Velen…?_

Gallywix screamed as a violet hand erupted from the sand, and out followed the rest of the Prophet. The elderly draenei coughed as he dusted off his beard and hummed like he had just finished a mundane task. 

“Well then, maybe your mother shouldn't have yelled at you all those years for visiting the marsh,” Khadgar’s voice was even more hoarse than usual as I helped him up from the bed of wet sand. He had reclaimed his staff, and wiped off the wooden head carved into a perching raven. 

“You want to tell her that?” I remarked with an arched eyebrow.

Khadgar’s arm stiffened beneath my touch. “Heavens no.” 

My gaze drifted to the ocean and sky, blushing with reds, pinks, and amber as the sun kissed the day goodnight. My eyes widened as I remembered Tera’s words. _My buccaneers found it and they’re selling it this evening in the lower ramparts of Booty Bay._

I looked back at Gallywix. “The painting!”

The Trade Prince moaned. “Curse the pirates! They ruined my life!”

Khadgar and I turned to each other, sensing the clock that ticked above our heads. “Tera said the deal would take place this evening.”

He nodded, his hands igniting with blinding arcane light. “Right. We’ll be there, hold on!”

The arcane glow expanded and feasted upon our surroundings. In a mere moment, the angelic sigh of the waves was replaced with the overworked groan of timber planks. We were stationed in front of the gaping tunnel that lead to Booty Bay. 

The wooden structures creaked with the reminder of how long they had been there. The village faced the sea at a curve with open arms, exchanging ships with the waves from the busy harbor. The only extravagant thing was the laughter off in the distance, ringing with richness and purity. It was one of the most endearing—er, charming places I had seen.

I tensed as the sun bobbed on top of the horizon. Khadgar’s fingers gripped his staff and swiped a look at me. There was urgency in his tone, “You’re the fastest. Don’t wait for us.”

“And get that painting by any means necessary, or you’re fired—! Sorry, force of habit,” Gallywix dismissed his empty threat as I sprinted away from the tunnel. I scanned the awkwardly-set buildings and searched for a way down. 

_Despite the circumstances, I think I would like this place. It’s warm and lively: it's not Pandaria, but it's homey._

I sucked in a breath as I stumbled on one of the nailed floorboards. The long, deadly gap between the wood and the stone cove hugging the town loomed before my eyes. Two arms caught me before I fell down to the life-taking depths.

“Careful, this ain’t running terrain, sweetheart.” The dark-haired human pulled back. For a minute I was dazed by his eyes: they were a rich gemstone blue that reminded me of Anduin’s. I cursed myself for lingering on them—I was losing precious time. 

“The lower ramparts,” I spat out the words as I felt the thin, uneven slabs of wood below me shudder. “Where?”

“This way, hug the ends, and ya see that ramp by the overturned boat—” I sped off before he could finish, shouting my thanks over my shoulder as I ran. 

I faltered a few more times, tripping on nails and slippery seaweed. The human was right: trying to move swift here was suicide, and I sharply avoided goblin-appointed guards as they became trampling hazards. 

_I can't let Gallywix lose this painting. I’ve gotten to know him, and he might be a putz sometimes, but he's not some shady businessman…! Alright, he is a putz and a shady businessman that will sue me if I fail, but I like him. And the Horde has enough problems with the summit._

My breath caught as the floorboards transformed into uneven bamboo strips. I bit back a hiss as the rough ground scraped against the bottom of my boots. 

I arrived at the last ramp with my bare, freckled shoulders slick with sweat. I scuttled to a stop as I looked down at the bottom floor. 

_We’re too late._

Two parties shook hands at the bottom. One group was clothed in the crimson bandanas of the Bloodsail. The buyer was a wealthy-looking undead in a business attire, flanked by two elven bodyguards. 

“This will make a fair addition to my collection,” The undead businessman handed a portrait hidden by a drape to the blood elf on his left. “Give Tera my regards.”

The Bloodsail shared mutual nods. The wealthy undead glanced over at the ramp I was stationed on and frowned. “Is this...another one of your associates?” 

The orcish woman in charge of the Bloodsail party looked at me, clutching a bag of newly-acquired gold. Like Tera, tusks sprouted from her jaded lips like the talons of a vicious hawk. Before she could speak, I finally found my voice, “No, I'm not with them. Is that.. _.The Goblin Lisa?_ ” 

All of the Bloodsails’ hands were suddenly positioned at their waists, where pistols and cutlass’ were sheathed. I heard more footsteps, and my companions reached the top of the rampart. Khadgar took his place by my side and silently assessed the situation.

The undead smiled at me, and while the blood elf woman was still holding it, he raised the drape covering the portrait. The lively-looking picture of a goblin woman’s face stared back at me, with a faint but knowing smile. The undead handed the beige sheet to the male night elf on his right and gestured at his prize, “In the flesh, my dear.”

A flicker of emotions crossed Gallywix’s face, but they were chased away by a grotesque sneer. “Ey! Give that back—!”

“Finders, keepers,” The orcish pirate snapped. 

Khadgar and I exchanged a look. _We could fight them. If we did engage in a skirmish, the painting might be damaged...and the pirates would be killed._

_Is there another option?_

“I have a proposition for you,” I replied, shrugging of the shoulder straps to my pack. A breeze swept through the cove and I finally noticed my rebellious hair. The goblin products I used to tame it had been washed out by the tide, and it cascaded down in puffy, sunset-bathed waves. 

As I dug into the contents of my belongings, the Bloodsail aimed their weapons at me. Khadgar’s eyes widened and raised his hands up in surrender. His curious gaze flit back to me as I held up the shiny object. 

“This is the brooch of the infamous Prince Arthas Menethil,” I said, forcing my voice to sound confident as I flashed the pin that was larger than my hand. 

The Bloodsail leader’s nostrils flared as she recognized the crest. “That is ours!”

My head tilted slightly to the side at her. “Finders keepers.” 

I strode down the ramp to the undead businessman. “Sure, it’s a well-made painting. But I think the past makes my trinket a little more...valuable.”

I shrugged, the brooch still clasped in one hand. “Perhaps we could make a trade?”

My heart pounded as he pondered the decision. He was undead; by Sylvanas or by Arthas, no one could say. It could be of importance to him, or it could be a scorned artifact of time. 

_I could give this to him and lose my chance to reunite Jaina with it, or I could spill more blood on an already tainted history._

“Or not,” I said, lowering the arm holding Arthas’ brooch and slowly spun around. 

“Hold on.” 

I stilled, flashing a smirk at Khadgar and then turning an innocent gaze back on the undead businessman. “Yes?” 

His eyes, two pools of light, flickered on the gold trinket I held. “I want that brooch.”

“And I want that painting,” I said. “That's my price. Are you willing to pay it?” 

His bodyguards moved with him as he took a few more steps towards me. “I will.” 

The Bloodsail still watched with furious gazes, fingers on their triggers. Khadgar acted as my bodyguard and stood close as we exchanged the two relics. 

The undead sighed as he traced the boon of Arthas with flesh-deprived fingers. “Such bloody history...that Harrison Jones can kiss my undead ass...”

I clasped the frame of the painting and turned to Gallywix, who already had his arms outstretched as if to embrace a long-lost relative. 

The undead bowed his bald, gray head before he ascended the ramp, “Ladies.” 

Part of me grieved to see him pass Velen as he left: Jaina had been attached to Arthas, the prince, before he became the king Azeroth remembered him to be. But _that_ Arthas was gone. 

“You dare to steal from the Bloodsail?” The orcish woman hissed. The cutlass she held shined with the last rays of sunlight. 

“You dared to steal from _me!_ ” Gallywix snapped. 

As the two bickered and pistols were pointed, I leaned back into Khadgar. I muttered, “I think now would be a nice time to…”

“Disappear?” 

“Yeah.”

Khadgar smiled as his fingertips let off a soft glow, “As long as there are no spiders on my head, I’m happy.”

 

~Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace~

I watched as Gallywix set the painting back up on the tacky banana-stamped wallpaper of his home. His estate was much larger than Aggra had told me, and he invited the us there to celebrate our victory.

“And viola,” The Trade Prince stepped back, dusting off his fingertips as we stared at the painting. Lisa still had her mysterious aura about her, with her plump lips in a remote, secretive smile. Perhaps she smiled with the knowledge that this Lisa had of her son, and the true Lisa never bothered to learn. Was I right? I would never know.

“Gallywix—” I started.

“Call me Jastor, Red,” The goblin leader winked as he retrieved his martini glass from a nearby dresser. 

“Jastor,” I corrected myself with a smile. “why keep the painting?”

Jastor swished around the liquid contents of his glass as he stared at the hazel eyes of the portrait. As he gazed at that secretive smile that seemed to know all the enigmas of Azeroth, his answer trickled from his lips, “I’m a businessman, Red. I got a lotta jewels, boat loads of rubies. Those things, they don't go away unless you’re stupid or you wander into a casino at night. But people can disappear even faster. And you can't always earn them back. So I treasure all those people, past and present.”

I smiled, “That’s very sweet.”

“Good, tell Fairbreeze’s Fables I said that,” Jastor raised his glass in a mock toast. 

We fell silent. Still we stared at the mystic face of Lisa.

“Ya know, Red, out of all the people at the summit, I think I trust you the most right now.” Jastor’s tone had gone surprisingly hushed. “And that’s why I’m gonna tell you this.” 

I turned away from _The Goblin Lisa_. Jastor’s features were bathed with an extra green layer of eerie light from the string of bulbs across the walls. The sickly glow faintly reminded me of the Undercity canals filled with mysterious, deadly toxins. 

“Sylvanas, she’s a smart lady. Pragmatic, a lotta vengeance, lotta ambition.” Jastor slightly shook his head at just the thought. “But nothing good comes from tryin’ to bury your past. You didn’t hear this from me, but...I don't think it's gonna turn out the way she wants unless some new...epiphany, comes along.” 

“What are you saying?” I leaned closer, searching another face that knew a secret. 

Jastor suddenly cackled, drops of liquor staining the zebra-carpeted floor as his body jiggled with laughter. “Look at your face! I got you good, Red, I got you good! Oh, this alcohol works fast, man—”

His lighter tone broke off and he shot me another serious look. “You don't tell...a single living soul about this.”

I was at a loss for words, so I settled for a slight shake of my head. Jastor never seemed like the mad type. He released a puff of air and muttered to himself, “She hates all living souls, anyway…no faith in humanity. Heh, business preys on that. But I don't want it dead...I don't want _them_ dead.”

~*~

I left Gallywix to divulge his mysterious outburst to the painting as I stepped outside. The Pleasure Palace stood high above Azshara, adorned with party lights that twinkled like the first night I had pursued Gallywix. I passed palm trees probably imported from Stranglethorn Vale as I stopped by the pool. 

Khadgar had already made himself at home on one of the floats, bobbing atop the clear water as he playfully froze and boiled the pool’s surface. Despite the aging spell, Khadgar's form was firm and he moved with ease.

When Khadgar saw me, he rolled off his float and into the water. He popped back up on the edge of the pool, water droplets cascading down his face. “Care to join us?”

I wanted to, but after Jastor’s words, I couldn't stop thinking about the Warchief Banshee Queen. Relaxing had been kissed goodbye tonight. I smiled politely and shook my head, “I think I'm going to call it a night, but I’ll see you at the summit.”

Khadgar vanished with a splash and went back to his float, humming as he gazed up at the stars. I passed Velen’s lawn chair next and waved. “I’m afraid I’ll be leaving now. Thank you for your help, Velen.” 

The elderly draenei perked up, rattling the row of finished glasses beside him. “It was a wonderful adventure, Scout Strider. Don't forget to give Lady Proudmoore this.”

I gaped at him as he opened a purple hand and offered me Arthas Menethil’s brooch. I wondered if it was a figment of my imagination, brought on by a long, tiring day. Velen pressed the cool gold into my palm, and I accepted it as reality. 

“All the Stars in the Night Sky...this is amazing, Velen! Did you steal this?” I glanced up from the treasure as Velen shot me his own doe-eyed look. 

“Just because I'm old doesn't mean I can break the rules too, Scout Strider.” Velen winked. “Get that to the Lady of Kul’Tiras as soon as you can.”

“I will, my gracious thanks,” I added a little bow as I juggled my hearthstone in my other fist. But before I whispered an incantation to get home, I glanced up at Velen.

“Yes?” He looked at me curiously.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Tera seemed nice.” 

“She was indeed.” Velen agreed. “But there is a chance that she survived, and is looking up at the same stars we are now. I suggest you think of _that_ ending, Eona.” 

The stone bloomed with light like a star in my grasp as it started to grow hot. Then the rest of the stars in the sky faded into nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yo Awesome Adventurers! We have Fourth of July this week, so I wanted to get this out to you a little early as a holiday gift, full of stars and stripes c: We are wrapping up this Epoch fast, I think we have two more chapters left, and another twist at the end. If you thought Sylvanas held all the cards, think again ;3 Also Protector of the Present will be updated sometime in the next few days! I hope you enjoyed and have an awesome week full of love, fortune and glory!!


	14. "The World's Smallest Violin"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Find the difference between truth and tales.

~The Darkmoon Faire~

I saw him first. The case to my violin fit perfectly in my hand as I walked. Braizers spat violet flames. The Darkmoon Faire was a carnival full of magic and mystery. It only seemed to remind me of Lisa. 

It was late in the evening, where shadows played tricks on the mind and people flocked like moths to the one source of light. Rides with blinking bulbs were blocked by crowds as I strolled to the patch of picnic tables and set down my case. 

“So who won?” I asked Kalec. 

Kalec’s eyes were wide upon first seeing me, but there were more pressing sights, specifically _him_. His leather armor was tattered and the cream-colored shirt underneath was in shreds. 

Kalec didn't answer. He simply took a long drink from his mug and muttered in a hoarse voice, “Wrath’s a bastard.” 

The wooden seat creaked as I sat down across from him. I edged my violin case to the side and positioned my bright-colored boots on one of the ledges below. “At least he can't say you’re invisible anymore.”

Kalec just out his jaw and my outfit. “Neither can he say that about you. What in Azeroth’s name are you wearing?” 

“This?” I glanced down at the glistening teal fabric that would mean death in my rogue profession. That was not my job today. Gallywix—erm, _Jastor_ had paid me, not in gold, but with a gig. He must’ve noticed the sheet music lying around my house. I wasn't serious about my music, but this opportunity lifted my suspicious mood. It seemed like a secret message from Jastor, specifically saying, ‘ _I like you, but I can still stick you wherever I want, Red—be a lamb and skin an exotic animal into a rug for my Pleasure Palace.’_ Maybe it wasn't entirely that, but somewhere along those lines. 

“Performers wear exotic things, and I thought you knew it's my job to embarrass you.” I teased. 

“I thought your job was making me uncomfortable.” 

“That’s part time. Different hours.”

“Ah. My mistake.” 

Kalec sighed. His massive shoulder slumped forward, and I caught a glimpse of the bruises left behind in Wrathion’s wake. I squinted at a deep gash above his brow, “Wrath really did a number on you.”

“I don't know who taught him to punch that hard, or throw dirt in my face—” Kalec took one glance at my face. “—nevermind.” 

I was about to say something else when Kalec’s gaze left me. He was staring at something behind me. It left him with a puzzled expression.

“You know...I think I need to go find something,” Kalec stood abruptly from the table. His mug still remained where it was, little drops of dew chasing each other down to the wooden counter.

“What's that?” I asked. 

He smirked. “The world’s smallest violin.” 

He ran off without another word. When he was out of sight, I glanced down at his unpaid drink and sighed. _He didn't even leave me any. That's not funny._

“Eona?” 

I looked up at a dark hooded figure. He was disguised well, but his posture was too perfect to be anyone else. I recognized the shadows of his face and smiled. “Hi, Tall, Dark and Handsome.”

Anduin eased into Kalec’s empty spot, fixing his brown hood as he cast a look around. His stare trickled down to my outfit, “Greetings, you look...stunning.” 

I tucked my bangs behind my ear, “Thanks, I guess we’re both wearing disguises. What’s the story behind yours?” 

“You first,” He chided, resting his arms on the table. 

We glanced up as fireworks fizzled across the cloudy twilight sky. When I shrugged my shoulders, the rubbery fabric seemed to give off its own light. It hugged my figure well and left my arms bare to the gentle touch of the breeze. “I play music. Jastor set it up for me.”

“You play?”Andy glanced at the black case with interest. 

“Mhm.”

He grinned. “I’ll have to hear you sometime.”

I bobbed my head at his faded leathers. “And you?” 

“Genn thinks that he's the new authority figure in my life and grounded me. I snuck out,” He explained with just a hint of irritation. 

My eyebrow rose, and I wore a playful smile as I said, “How devious.”

“You should see me when I’m playing Hearthstone,” He replied. 

I laughed, my fingers locking into knots on the table.

“So why did you come here?” I asked. 

“To see you, actually...I have something for you.” Andy’s gloved hands searched his coat pockets until he came across a crinkly item. He gave me a letter.

“What's this?” I stared at the parchment. There wasn't wax sealing the opening, and the paper looked too fragile to be new. I glanced up at him for an answer. 

“Not too long ago, you sent me a letter when…” Anduin paused. The words that came next were barely above a croak. “When my father died.” 

My eyes widened. He went on, “I can't thank you enough for sending that...it gave me hope. I wrote a letter to you, in response to it, but I wanted to give it to you myself...and I have no idea how you got yours to Stormwind Keep.” 

I smirked, but I didn't reveal my secret yet. I held up the letter, “Do you mind…?”

“No, not at all. It's for you, please,” Andy made an encouraging gesture toward it with his hand. The paper whispered it's protest as I undid the flap and my eyes flit over the slightly aged words,

 

_My Dearest Eona,_

_I miss you more than ever. I miss your warmth, your liveliness, your laugh. I loathe the formality and distance that others treat me with, especially now. My father is gone, and I do not even have the luxury to grieve. There’s just the invasion...and the throne._

 

“You sound like you were in love with me,” I couldn’t stop my lips from curving up. _He did write me one or two letters when we dated. I loved them—I think they’re probably still at my house. The curse of the dragon, finding value in everything. I can never throw anything away._

“I...I cared about you very much, and it was an emotional time.” Anduin licked his lips. His face had aged twenty years. I continued on,

 

_Yes, I did get your last letter, and I don't know how you did it. How did you get the Alliance to accept your letter? It’s another one of the beautiful mysteries I remember about you, and hopefully one day, you will tell me. It is still my objective to achieve peace, I just wish my father would have seen it...the pain that I still receive from when Garrosh dropped the bell seems like a reminder. A reminder that in the end, I’m broken. A reminder that I failed once before, and it can happen again. I just hope everyone else doesn’t suffer with me._

 

_Thank you for reaching out to me. I lost my father, but at least I still have you, Pink Rose. I wish you all the luck in the world to fight the Legion._

_~Always Yours,_

_Anduin_

 

 

For a long moment, my attention lingered on the last pair of perfect cursive words. _Always Yours_. We had gone our separate ways after Pandaria—I even started to see someone else when I was chasing Garrosh across a lively Draenor. Was it as serious as what I had with Anduin? Not even close. But this letter wasn't that old—a year, at least. It was _recent_. 

_Wait...pain from the bell?_

I remembered my deal with Alexstrasza the Life Binder. I would spend time on the icy continent of Northrend, and she would heal Anduin’s wounds from the incident. I did what I was told. I endured my pain so she could take away his. But now...it was all for nothing. 

I glanced up at Andy’s face, shocked by how much older he seemed than a mere handful of years ago. I finally recognized the slight indent of his brow, not out of concentration, but of restrained _agony_. 

Anduin knew nothing of the deal, and I didn't want to discuss it now. Everything else I had read came back to me.

“You’re not broken, Andy,” I said, reaching across the table to give his hand a comforting squeeze. “Your father would be proud of you. You are a magnificent ruler.”

_How could Varian not be proud? He’s so endearing—DAMMIT._

Anduin smiled, but it appeared more like a grimace. The air had gone from merry to melancholy. He dipped his head, “I believe you...thank you, Eona.”

_He lies. I hide. We really are quite a pair._

As silence settled upon us, I plopped a few of my earnings in Kalec’s empty mug and slid it away. The blissful mirth of others mocked our ears. Two kids sped past, chasing one another. Despite the foul mood, a smile crossed my face.

“You like kids?”

“Hmm?” I glanced back up with surprise, my chin propped up by my elbows. Anduin’s gaze was curious. I said, “Yes. I babysit for Aggra and Go’el sometimes…”

“You never struck me as someone who wanted children,” Andy’s tone was softer than the hollow form it had taken on earlier. There was more life in his eyes. 

“Liking little ones doesn't mean the same as wanting them,” I cautioned with a finger, “but in this case...I do. There weren’t a lot of children around on...where I was raised. I always thought it would be nice.”

It was a sad, hopeful dream born of a crumbling rock and the girl that lived on it. A cozy hearth. A jubilant family. In a way, I had already come very close to it. But I wasn't _there_.

“Let’s play a game,” Anduin said, straightening himself and returning to his poised, elegant state of sitting. 

I smirked, “Sure, but we both know you'll beat my ass at Hearthstone.”

“Not that,” I earned a chuckle from him. Andy continued, “We’ve been catching up already, but I want to try a different way.” 

“Alright, what do you propose?” 

Anduin stood from the table and presented his hand to me. “Truth or Tale?” 

“You first.” I replied, rising from the picnic table with my instrument case in hand.

We walked side by side, a shady stranger and a wild-looking gypsy touring the Darkmoon Faire. Sizzles and pops and flashes tricked my senses as we strolled together. Anduin had offered to hold my case like the courteous gentleman he was, but I politely refused. I glanced at the rides, wondering which ones we could try later.

“Alright, I think I’ve got one,” Andy replied as we continued down the dirt row and passed tents full of applause. “I thought I saw my mother attend my father’s funeral.”

My feet came to a halt on the earthen path. _He never mentioned his mother before._

“Truth?” I replied, willing my legs to keep moving as we heard the soft beckoning of the harbor. 

Andy nodded. I asked, “You really think you saw her?”

“I never even met her; I barely know what she looks like. Used to have dreams about her when I was younger…” Anduin was full of wistfulness as he seemed to see something else besides the pointed roofs of tents. After a while he returned to the present. “Your turn.”

“Um…” My grip tightened on my case as I thought of what I could say. _Hmm, should I use…? No, that’s too weird. Most of my life is too weird. How about…_

“Vol’jin is the actual owner of my house,” I said.

Andy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tale?”

There was a slight shake of my head. “Truth.” 

“How come?” Andy asked. We came to the end of the Darkmoon Faire, looking out at the sea that surrounded the whole island. Waves reached out across the sand for a lost loved one that was no longer there. 

“After chasing Garrosh…” _Across Draenor._ “we decided it was in everyone’s best interest that I retire.”

“How come?”

I leaned my case against the dark wood of the dock and faced the yearning waves. 

“It's your turn.” I rasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello Awesome Adventurers!! I hope you enjoyed this one. It has a little different feel to the others, but it still keeps our mystery theme. I actually wrote Eona's letter to Andy when his father passed, I can post that one up here to if you guys would like. Also, if you can leave kudos or comments, please do. I found this chapter very difficult to write, and it took a while for something to resonate. Please, I'd love to hear your opinion and see if what I'm writing is good. Thank you to those who are commenting, you have been a tremendous help to this story. We will see the last chapter of Epoch II next with someone else who likes his tales, love, fortune and glory to you!
> 
> Edit: Hia! I added Eona's letter to Anduin below that I drafted up for this chapter. I hope you like it c: 
> 
>  
> 
> "Anduin,  
> I regret not reaching out to you sooner, and I regret that the circumstances have to be this. I heard about Varian, and I am so very sorry. You are not alone, the Horde and so many others grieve him. He was a good man, and a wonderful father. I know you will get through this. I wish I could say more, but words on parchment only speak so much.
> 
> Furthermore, I hope this letter finds you, and specifically you, or I will be facing my execution tomorrow. Fun. I hope we can face this enemy together and achieve the peace that you always wanted. And at the end...I hope I get to see you. Soon. Preferably when the world is not ending. I miss you, and I wish you the best.
> 
> ~Yours Always,  
> Eona"


	15. "My Kingdom of Night"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Pay the price.

~Wrathion, Beneath the Veiled Stairs~

Shadows. They slithered back and forth across the cave. A weaker mind would ponder whether they were assassins or terrors from the fictional realm. I was gifted to know the difference. 

“You promised me vengeance.”

In the torchlight (only for my followers, the flames were but a decoration to me) I saw Princess Tess Greymane’s face. She had malicious, high-raised eyebrows like scythes. Men trembled before that gaze. I was no man. 

“Patience is a virtue,” I mused, wandering to the center of the underground room. A Mogu statue was there, staring down the people that passed. I held that gaze with shoulders back. 

The Mogu...such mighty conquerors. Ruthless. Fierce. No one questioned their power...such high standards to live up to.  

“This...plan of yours,” Tess put her gloved hands on her hips as she paced behind me. “Just how foolproof is it? Is that redhead of yours going to trifle with us, or is the King of Stormwind—”

“You dare to question me?” I said. In that tone of voice, I didn't even have to face her. I was glad I hadn't. My face felt hot after the last title she mentioned. 

“Yes.” She remarked and stopped her scurrying. “This is elaborate. It's dangerous. I don't care about the risks...I care about results.”

I turned my head just a smidge towards her. “Believe me, when this is over...we will both be satisfied.” 

_At least in mind, never in heart._

Tess huffed. The relics in the cave glittered with flamelight that delighted my eyes. Tess persisted, “What about the Bloodsail? That Tera girl that you picked up?”

I finally turned away from the statue of gold. “I am the only one here granted with wings. The Bloodsail are our only ways of travel until our other... _resources_...are gathered.”

Left and Right were beginning to get agitated with the girl for so many questions. Their sneers were that of a desert-starved hyena. I reminded myself to raise their pay. 

One of the assassins in black entered the room. He lingered at the entrance, hand over his chest. “Boss, someone’s here to see you.” 

All three women looked up. Hands poised behind my back, I tilted my head at the guard. “And?”

“It’s the Grand Magister of Silvermoon, Your Highness.”

“How ravishing,” I muttered. “Anything else?” 

“He requests your presence, and he wants his whereabouts unknown.” 

“Of course. The corrupt always hide in plain sight. I will be there.”

I felt a grain of fondness when the messenger bowed. _How does Anduin feel with all of his power, in that marble fortress? Does he relish in it? No, I know my_ friend _better than anyone. It eats at him, day by day...that is the way of power and humans. Greed consumes them, or they consume greed. And dragons...well, we were just greedy to begin with._

I gestured at Tess lazily with my taloned fingers. “We will continue this.” 

Left and Right followed me out of my kingdom of night. A ladder appeared at the end of the dark tunnel, leading up to the world of light. The messenger offered me a hand as I appeared at the back of the Tavern of the Mists. 

There were some customers, but the chatter was idle and distant. I passed the bar tended by Tong that reeked with the ripe scent of alcohol. I waved nonchalantly at him, and he lightly bowed back. Another rush of ecstasy. 

“Grand Magister Rommath,” His name purred off my tongue as I approached the red robed mage. Rommath looked up from my usual table in the corner, giving a slight nod. 

I took my seat across from him with utmost elegance. Left and Right assumed their places behind me. 

“What brings you to the other side of the world?” I glanced at his bare arms. The muscles were layered with crimson tattoos. “How have the mists intrigued your thirst?”

The bottom half of his face was covered with a scarlet scarf. It infuriated me. _I should be the one wrapped in mystery, I should know all...why didn't the messenger make him remove it? I will “speak” with him later for this annoyance. What is that saying? "Don't kill the messenger"? Such blasphemy._

Tong knew the routine and brought two steaming mugs of alcohol. Another bow. How delicious. 

Rommath’s hand grasped the mug. _Yes, Tong, you brilliant innkeeper! Perhaps Rommath’s scarf will be discarded. His secrets will be revealed._

“Curiosity.” He said bluntly. For a mage, he was surely bold. What an amusing contradiction. “I want to know something about your family tree.”

My claws dug into the wood of the table. Tong would be upset with me. It would not be the first time. 

_How dare he! Come all this way, tempt me, and then accuse me of what everyone else thinks! My blood will not bind me!_

“Your sister, I mean,” Rommath notioned with his other hand. His fingers were quite slender. “The redhead, short, little stocky—”

“And as bold as you are. Yes, I know the one.” I remarked as my interest grew. _I was hoping Eona would leave my plans alone, but so far, all she’s done is help me without knowing it. I wonder, what will this bring…?_

“There’s something I want to know about her.” He said. 

_How marvelous. The keeper of secrets, trying to buy another._

_The question is...will I sell what is not mine?_

“What are you offering...in exchange?” I said slowly. 

Rommath shrugged. “What do you want?”

I licked my lips. “A few things...perhaps you could _indulge_ me.” 

“I think I can match a price if you tell me what I want to know,” Romath replied. 

_The price. That can either mean something I earn or something I pay. Sometimes, it means both._

“I told you,” I said. I held his emerald gaze as I flaunted a piquant smirk. “Indulge me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hia Awesome Adventurers!! Hope you're having an awesome week, this is the last chapter of Epoch II! Yay! In the next section, we'll be in Dalaran, full of danishes and fangirls—
> 
> Deadpool: AUTHOR
> 
> Author: WADE??? What are you doing here? This isn't even your fandom!
> 
> Deadpool: I have returned from the depths of that ungodly Marvel fanfic you stuck me in, Author, to take a bulldozer to the fourth wall and make another cameo! Oooo, we're in Azeroth now? I bet Anduin fits in Spidey's onesie.
> 
> Author: Sorry, I can't do a cameo. No wiggle room.
> 
> Deadpool: No wiggle room?
> 
> Author: No wiggle room. Sorry, Wade. The readers love you, but I'm afraid I can't stick you in this story. 
> 
> Deadpool: If I can't invade Emo-Boy-who-likes-marshmallow's story, then to Protector of the Present I go! MUEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!
> 
> Illidan: What is this pesky creature...?
> 
> Deadpool: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! LOOK READERS! IT'S ILLIDAN! WHERE ARE MY WHITE PANTS WHEN I NEED THEM, I AM NOT PREPARED!
> 
> Illidan: I was better off leagues away from Azeroth...
> 
> Deadpool: I NEED TO FIND MY WHITE PANTS. I'LL BE BACK. 
> 
> *a slightly evil presence has left a kudos on this story*
> 
> Jaina: I knew weirdos lived in Azeroth, but this is an entirely different level of bizarre. 
> 
> Author: Oh dear...love, fortune and glory to you...?


	16. "Stay as Cool as a Cucumber" (Epoch III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epoch III: "Just Desserts" 
> 
> Quest Objective: Escape the mighty hordes of fans.

~Eona Strider, Dalaran~

“Get ready,” Khadgar cautioned me as he gripped his staff. “There will be mobs of them.”

Jaina tucked one of her pearlish bangs behind her ear. “They won't show mercy to us. They’ll be bloodthirsty.” 

I stood between the two with a dull expression on my face. “They’re just _fans_.” 

The two gave me foul looks as they readied themselves on the edge of the landing platform. The Kirin Tor had learned of the summit, and they wanted to host one of the meetings to show their approval. Their last involvement was also in the defence of Theramore, so their neutrality was finally put to the test. 

It was perfect timing. The floating city of Dalaran still loomed over The Broken Isles, but it was close to Northrend. I planned my own visit there to see why Alexstrasza hadn't delivered on her promise to heal Anduin. 

The air should have been crisp so high up. Instead it was thick and tingly with magic, just like the arcane statue of Jaina that the Bloodsail bestowed. I glanced at Jaina now. She wore a mesh of blues and whites, like the whitecaps of the ocean. And holding her cloak on her shoulder, slightly hidden by her bulky shoulder armor, was a brooch with the mark of Lordaeron. 

“At first. Just wait, Eon—you may want to stock up on healing potions.” Khadgar cautioned.

I blew my bangs out of my face. I was unimpressed. The mages gathered themselves and turned to the nearest guard. “We’re ready.” 

We left the open courtyard and started to stroll down the coral cobblestone road. The buildings were high and blue crystals emitted a soft glow. It reminded me of my days in Zangarmarsh, with the towering mushrooms and exotic lights. 

Dalaran was unlike other cities of Azeroth. The guards wore long robes, and the people had an air of knowledge about them. There was an exotic atmosphere that Khadgar and Jaina thrived in. 

Then they came. 

The crowds that were obsessed with the most beloved mages of Azeroth. Two goblin girls just a few years younger than me approached Khadgar first.

“Khadgar!” They squealed. 

“Your hair really _does_ look like the slopes of Winterspring!”

“And your jawline really _is_ perfect…”

Khadgar’s cheeks bloomed with red from the bizarre compliments. “Will you sign our journals?” 

Out of nowhere, a quill and a bottle of ink appeared. I winced at the teens’ shrieks of delight as Khadgar’s hand swiped across the parchment. 

“Stay as cool as a cucumber, ladies,” When Khadgar pointed finger guns, the two stumbled on their feet like they were about to faint. 

I turned to look at Jaina. A tauren nearly twice the size of her was holding a bouquet of blue roses. They were a little squished in his huge, trembling fists. 

“Aww, thank you. You shouldn't have,” Jaina patted his wrist. 

His eyes went wide. “I’m never washing this hand again!” 

Jaina’s eyes went wide, but then another fan burst into the fray. An orc was rolling up her sleeves, “Jaina! I got a tattoo of your face! Look at how lifelike it is!”

“Oh, no thanks— _wow_...that’s a little disturbing.”

“Can you sign my face?” 

As another ink bottle popped into existence, I fought the tsunami of fans to fresh air. There was such eagerness and ferocity in them as I tried to squeeze through. I choked on the intense fervor.

I came to the end of the mob and sighed. _And I thought demons were the scariest things on the planet._ I looked for a route to avoid the screeching fans. The glint of blue armor interrupted my search.

“Care to sign any of my possessions?” Halduron replied. I chuckled as he offered me violet-azure flowers with dirt still clinging to their roots. 

“Very funny,” I remarked. Hal’s blond hair practically gleamed in the sunlight. But he still held out the flowers, his expression sincere. “Wait...you’re serious.”

“Incredibly, I'm your biggest fan,” Halduron still held out the flowers freshly ripped out of Dalarn’s arcane-infused soil.

“They’re beautiful, Hal. Thanks,” I accepted the flowers and clutched them gently as I leaned up on my toes to kiss his cheek. A grin spread across Hal’s face, ear to ear. 

We looked away as someone cleared their throat. My smile grew, “Anduin!” 

Andy had grown taller since our trip across Pandaria years ago. He was almost Halduron’s height, lips pressed firmly together. 

“Hal, she’s too young for you!” I heard Lor’themar call. 

“I am allowed to socialize!” Hal hollered back. 

“Not if it's questioned legally!” The Regent Lord’s voice was stern. 

Halduron’s head bowed to me. “Until next we meet, Sexy Cheetah.” 

Halduron sulked as he walked towards Lor’themar’s voice. Anduin’s eyes narrowed and returned to me. “It’s not my place to ask, but...are you two…?”

“What—? Oh, no.” The answer came out more rushed than I intended. “He’s just a dorky coworker of mine—he’s nice.”

Anduin nodded, and motioned toward the Violet Citadel, a cluster of high, pearl-colored buildings leading up to one colossal tower. “Shall we?” 

“Of course,” We strolled the streets side by side. Anduin’s eyes were everywhere, taking in every intricate, elegant detail of the mage city.

“Is this your first time visiting Dalaran?” I asked.

“Yes, it's amazing.” He said, his tone light with awe. _Andy’s probably trapped in Stormwind half the time by Genn. The summit meetings must give him some relief...I’m still astonished that Andy snuck out._

The excited screams of fans reminded me of Khadgar and Jaina’s ill fate. I glanced back at Anduin, “I’m a little surprised you’re not surrounded by admirers.” 

“Genn’s distracting them.”

“That’s a relief...or not?” My eyebrow rose at his expression.

Anduin glanced at the pattern of stones on the ground. “He sees it as a way of searching for my future _queen_.”

“Ah...isn’t that your job?” I replied. 

For a fleeting moment, Andy smiled. Then it quickly vanished as we caught sight of the new mob taking up the road. 

Genn was at the front, commanding the orchestra of chaos. “Anduin, I found some promising candidates—! Oh! This one’s a noble!”

We exchanged a look, and as one, we ducked down the nearest corner. Genn’s shouts followed, along with his army of fans.

“Here—!” I grabbed Andy’s arm and pulled him into the shadows of the nearest alley. We stood very close, enduring silence and intensity as the waves of people passed.

Once again, I was reminded of how tall Andy was—or, how incredibly short I was. When I stared forward, it was at his lips. I turned away slightly, Anduin’s breath tickling my neck. 

As the last few of the eager admirers sprinted down the street, I realized with a pang that I was still holding onto Andy’s arm. 

“Sorry,” I muttered as I let go. He hadn't pulled away yet. 

“You know, I’m surprised _you’re_ not chased down the streets with admirers—well, _more_ admirers.” Andy corrected himself and I noticed his lips come together again. _Stars._ My eyes looked away from his mouth. “You’ve done some good deeds for Azeroth,” He said.

“I don't know, I don't think people are really...fond, of me.” I said. When Andy frowned, I continued, “My family...well, excluding Alexstrasza, they’re what you would call... _pariahs of society_.”

Inwardly, I cursed myself for saying it after I revealed it. _Yes, that’s very smart, Eon. Admit to your family’s horrendous reputation in front of a king. Will I ever learn to shut up at the right times?_

“Really?” Andy’s face scrunched up with doubt. “You don't seem like one.” 

I was glad the mobs had left, because my laugh was loud enough to give away our hiding spot. “You don't have to spare my feelings, Andy.”

“I was serious. You’re nice—after you’ve had breakfast. I heard you threaten Wrathion once all the way across the Temple of the White Tiger one morning.” Andy recalled. 

“And that’s a sign that I’m _not_ a social pariah?” I leaned back on the wall and crossed my arms, but my smile was playful.

“No...my point being, you are open with people. You communicate with them—and you’re not afraid to give your own opinion.” Anduin said, his tone lost of mirth and hinting at something else... _adoration_? “You’re honest. I’ve been a diplomat for years, do you know how hard it is to disagree with someone?” 

“I can imagine it's something like any conversation with Sylvanas,” I mused. 

Anduin’s mask of formality broke and he smiled down at our shoes. The tips were just barely touching. 

_I love her wit. Have I ever laughed this much around someone else—?_

“What?” I asked out loud. 

“Pardon?” Anduin looked back up. 

I stared at his completely clueless face. _What did I just hear? I could have sworn it sounded like him._

“Did you say something?” I asked. 

“No.”

“Oh...sorry.” Once again, I had to avert my eyes from his lips. _What just happened? Did I imagine it—? Sometimes I try to imagine instrument noises in my head._

_But that's different! Those are noises, not voices! I'm hearing voices now?_

A new sound interrupted my thoughts, and I knew it was real, because Anduin looked up for the source. _Foreshadowing_ throbbed in the back of my head as I listened to bells, but they were too ethereal, too light. They were like chimes without the vibrations from the impact. 

“What is that?” Anduin asked.

I had been to Dalaran in the past—I even took classes here. I was used to the noise. I tried to find the words to explain, “It’s like an announcement, usually means some sort of event is about the start.”

“Like the summit?”

“Right...oh Stars.” 

Anduin reached for my hand, “Come on, I think we can make it—”

I was a heartbeat away from sealing our fingers when another thought popped into my head. “Wait! We can't go in at the same time.”

Anduin’s eyes furrowed together. “Why not?”

“Because, people make assumptions! If we’re both late, it will draw attention.” I said. “You go, I’ll follow up in a few moments.” 

Andy stiffened. “But won't you have to face Sylvanas?” 

He was right. And I was a rogue, her personal scout—I was known for my quickness. I had to have an excuse prepared. 

_I can handle Sylvanas. But I’ve already heard of what Andy’s putting up with. Genn doesn't need another reason to rain hellfire upon him._

“Don't worry about it,” I said and tilted my head in the direction of the Violet Citadel. “We’re wasting time. I’ll be there, Anduin, just go!” 

By the look of his face, I knew he didn't approve of the plan, but there was no time for an argument. I remained in the shadows for a few more counts. Anduin ran off, out of the night and into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey Awesome Adventurers! Here's another chapter because you're amazing c: I can't wait to write more of this one, and Epoch IV will be based on the "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina" episode. That ones a little complicated, and I've been thinking about it for a while, but I feel like we'll have tons of fun with it! Love, fortune and glory to you!!


	17. "The Ravish and Charm That Is Khadgar"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Don't poke the Windrunners.

~The Legerdemain Lounge, with Danishes~

Jaina sat next to me in silence. I stared at the last empty seat in front of me. These chairs were padded, which was a nice change compared to the throne of splinters in Kun-Lai Summit. I couldn't enjoy it, not with the dread that sagged my shoulders and fear of what would come to pass. 

“You were late. So what?” Jaina asked. Her fingers traced the violet glass in the center of the round table. 

“You know how particular she is,” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth. “I think she’s going to kill me.”

“Eon, you say that literally every day.”

“Yeah. But this time, I really mean it.” I remarked, stuffing my face with a danish. _Hey, if I die, I'm going down on a full stomach._ I covered my mouth as I chewed and talked at the same time, “I'm starting to think I should have taken a boring office job.”

“Or go into quest giving, but there is no way you could stand still for that long…” Jaina’s voice trailed off as she looked across the room.

No more could be said. Death had arrived. 

Sylvanas moved without a sound, but her presence was known. Tables hushed and eyes followed the leader of the undead. Her crimson eyes pierced me like a dozen bolts of arrows. 

She stopped by the bar first, exchanged a few words with the pale-faced bartender, and reached our table. The Warchief Banshee Queen moved with inhuman grace as she took her seat. 

“Strider.” Her stare hardened on me. “Care to explain why you were _late_ to the summit?” 

My hand veiled my mouth full of food. “Nope. Not really.” 

Sylvanas’ bluish fingers curled with anger. “I need you at those meetings. You are my scout, my finest observer. Moreover, do you know how your behavior makes _me_ look?”

“I thought you would approve of it. People witnessed a boss so terrifying that an employee doesn't want to attend.” Jaina said. While she was occupied, I stole the danish on her plate and started to nibble. 

A waiter arrived carrying three drinks. As he set them on the table, Sylvanas hissed, “The living are useless! So unreliable!”

_Threats, complaints about the living. I'm so happy to have my hostile mean girls back...so happy. Just...thrilled._

“Thanks, you’re pretty great too.” Jaina looked down and scowled at her empty plate. “Hey! You took my danish!” 

I dotted my mouth with a napkin, hiding my chomping, “You invited a _rogue_ to lunch, Jaina. You should’ve known that something would get stolen.”

“Maybe the _bill_ will be next.” Jaina’s blue eyes were sharp like icicles. 

My hand clasped around the handle to my mug next. Sylvanas fired another question at me, “If you were resurrected by my hand...how would you feel?” 

My fingers froze on my drink. _Why would she ask that so...outright? So boldly?_

Jaina was the first to say something, averting to a different topic. “I walked in with Khadgar this morning and I wish I hadn't. Now everyone thinks we’re dating—”

“Jaina.” Sylvanas commanded her with her crimson eyes. 

Jaina’s hand vanished to her shoulder, where Arthas’ brooch was pinned to her clothing. She shook her head slightly and looked down. 

Sylvanas reminded me of a bowstring pulled back, shuddering with energy, as she leaned over the table and stared intently at me. 

“I wouldn't mind.” 

Both gave me deranged looks. 

“Why?” Sylvanas’ hands clenched into fists. “Why would you accept this torment so willingly? Why would you deny eternal peace over _this?_ ” 

I always wondered how Sylvanas had accepted who she was now, deep inside. Now...I was starting to think that she had never coped with it at all. Not in any positive way. 

My mind raced. I traced the top of my drink as I thought about it. “It’s a second chance to do what I couldn't accomplish before. I still get to see things, watch over my family—” 

“A second chance?” Sylvanas spat the word. “This is a mockery of life! Life is—”

The Banshee Queen stopped short. Being undead, her face was a mask that hardly ever revealed her true intentions. And if it did, anger was the most common. There was an emotion on her face that I had never seen before.

Confusion. 

“I thought...I thought you wanted me to join your undead ranks,” I said as I searched for the source of her outburst. 

Sylvanas glanced down. “I did.” 

My fingers gripped my drink once again. I raised it to my lips, to refresh myself—

“Don’t,” Sylvanas’ stood swiftly from the table. She wrestled the mug from my hands. Sylvanas ignored her own untouched glass and neglected Jaina’s as well. 

“Are you alright, Sylvanas?” I asked, sizing her up as she seemed so...fidgety. So unsure. That was abnormal for her. 

She didn't answer. “I’m getting refills.” 

Sylvanas fled our table. Without looking away from the Warchief Banshee Queen, Jaina asked me, “Wasn’t your mug full?”

I hesitated before I spoke. “Yes. It was.” 

 

 

~Khadgar, Violet Citadel~

“Well, what was your tally?” Turalyon looked me up and down. The Purple Parlor was a peculiar place, full of cocktails and knowledge. The floor was etched with runes that had a soft tread. The air was warm without the presence of a blackened fireplace and the stench of smoke. Mage furnishing at it's finest.

I grinned at my old friend who leaned on one of the curved bookcases that housed treasures more valuable than any chest. “Fifty-two fans. You?”

“Does Alleria count?” 

“No, she doesn't,” Vereesa Windrunner smirked as she reclined on one of the roundtables next to her sister. All three faces were familiar. Vereesa’s pale cheeks framed with pearlish bangs was a little more well-known... _in these surroundings._  

“Roughly about—”

“Thirty-seven.” Alleria’s blue marked face started to smile when a ball of arcane energy floated by. Her eyes narrowed, and when she tried to touch it, it fluttered out the nearest entrance. “Hmm.”

“What can I say? I cannot compete with the ravish and charm that is Khadgar,” Turalyon’s paladin armor clinked at every move he made, trying to find a comfortable stance. It was somewhat queer for a paladin to visit the floating city–paladins and mages weren't known for kind interactions. But that was not the case for Turalyon...even if he stuck out like a flaming candlestick. 

I laughed, but not because I believed his words. _To be truthful, I don't know what any of them see that is...alluring._

“How’s your daughter?” Vereesa asked. My eyes widened when she shot a glance my way, meaning it was meant for me. “The _sin’dorei?_ ”

“Eona? She’s not my daughter,” I shook my head as I tickled the spines of books with my fingers.

“I swear, Sylvanas is trying to replace us with Proudmoore and your spawn.” Alleria remarked.

“She’s not my daughter!”

“I think I should visit our sister.” Alleria mused. Her back was to Turalyon, and she didn't turn around to meet his gaze.

“It would probably be wise if I didn't attend that meeting,” Turalyon’s eyes were wide, like his demise had flashed before his eyes. I did not doubt that Sylvanas might try to stick an arrow in him—my daughter said that’s how she greets others— _dammit!_

Alleria stood and the couple nodded to me as they passed. “Take care, Khadgar. Are you coming, Vereesa?”

“In a minute.” 

The air fizzled and popped. Alleria and Turalyon’s forms shimmered and faded from view. There was a pang in my chest when I saw them vanish, but I reminded myself that they were just downstairs. 

“How are the twins?” I asked Vereesa, looking away from my bookshelf. 

“Like him.” She said. “And Lirath, I suppose.”

My knuckles grazed my chin. “Lirath?”

Vereesa seemed to deflate in her seat. Creases decorated her porcelain forehead. “My brother— _our_ brother, I should say. He was murdered by orcs many years ago…”

Her gaze hardened into marble. “He was the first one we lost.”

_Windrunners, always take your breath away with whatever they say._

“I’m sorry,” I stuttered slightly. Eona was open and easy to talk to, but it seemed like every other elven woman was a bear trap waiting to clamp on my foot. 

I turned back to the novels, flustered. Veressa’s words were weary, “I feel like a ghost...being here.”

“You’re always welcome with us,” I said. 

She shook her head slightly. “That’s not it. There was a reason for being here before, and now…”

Her glowing azure eyes glanced down. “He’s not here anymore.” 

The air erupted with vibrations from the portal in the corner of the room. The Blue dragon, Kalecgos, appeared. He nodded to us. “Khadgar, Lady Vereesa. I apologize, my Lady, but we have some important matters to discuss—”

“Of course.” Vereesa stood from her chair. Kalec’s presence seemed to rattle her more than mine. She glanced back at me before striding across the rune-coated floor. Kalec remained silent until the portal let out another wail. Vereesa was gone. 

“My apologies for the intrusion,” Kalec said as he glanced around. His leather garments wreaked of soot and the honey-sweet scent of Crystalsong Forest. He was young for his kind, but he certainly lacked nothing when it came to experience. His set jaw worried me. 

“You are the leader of the Kirin Tor, so you deserve to know first,” Kalec started, his shoulders pulled forward in a way that almost seemed uncomfortable. _Dragons are always the ones with the most bizarre mannerisms. Some of them transfer in odd ways to their humanoid forms. I would bet that Kalec’s wings would be hunched together if he were in his true form._

"You didn't have to send Vereesa away. She’s been close to the Kirin Tor for years, she can be trusted,” I assured him.

“For the Kirin Tor’s reputation...I believe that the less people informed, the better.” Kalec said quietly. 

“Our reputation?” I replied. I stepped away from the bookshelf, tomes forgotten. All of the comforts of the room faded away. “What is this about, Kalec?”

I stroked the stubble on my chin as Kalec continued. “A certain...security risk, has come up. Some of the prisoners kept in the Violet Hold have escaped—”

“Hasn't this become a common occurrence?” I remarked, recalling the many exasperating times that creatures and powerful beings had broken out of their cells.

“—escaped _out_ of Violet Hold.” Kalec let the knowledge sink in. “They’re loose. _In the city._ We have wards to keep them in, but citizens, shopkeepers, apprentices in training, the summit—all of them are at risk.”

I swallowed hoarsely. Kalec didn't look any more assured. “Khadgar...the Kirin Tor’s reputation after Theramore has been...biased. If any race leader is attacked that is attending the summit—”

“War.” That word was so simple to say. And yet, as it left my lips, it augured a horrific meaning. Streets made of bones. Cities that once housed happy, laughing people turned to ruin. Children’s toys abandoned, half-singed. 

I shuddered, even though deep down, I knew the air hadn't grown chillier. 

“Where’s your sister?” I asked.

“Northrend, visiting Wyrmrest Temple. She should be back soon,” Kalec said, uncertainty festering his gaze. “What do we do?”

“What we do when Eona isn't available.” I remarked with a grim face. 

Kalec nodded. We both leaned back and yelled at the top of our lungs. 

“JAINA!”

Somewhere below the Purple Parlor, we got an answer. 

“BUSY!”

“Damn.” 

I stroked my chin and muttered, “Worth a try. Alright, desperate times call for desperate measures...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hia Awesome Adventurers! Sorry, this chapter came in a little late, but it’s already that time of year when school is coming back again...high school. The Senior Year. These are the voyages of a scared teenager. Her four-year mission: to explore weird-smelling locker rooms, to seek out acne hacks and college applications, to boldly go where everyone else has gone before...did I mention it smells?  
> Forgive me, my inner Trekkie called XD but I am going back to school, so I will no longer be posting on Fridays; updates will be random for a while, but I will repeat this in all caps: THERE WILL BE UPDATES. THEY WILL BE RANDOMLY POSTED, BUT THERE WILL BE UPDATES.  
> There is a bunch of other stuff going on, I'd love to comment on one thing in this chapter: Sylvanas. I'm starting to work my magic with her. I don't know what you'll think or how you'll feel about it, I guess we'll find out together. If you'd like to share your thoughts, I'm all ears. And we got to hear from Khadgar! Very excited for this character, we'll see more of him and Wrath this Epoch.  
> This was a very long A/N, I apologize :3 I'll see you soon, Awesome Adventurers! Have a wonderful day full of love, fortune and glory!!


	18. "I'll Give You a Snickerdoodle If You Find the Bad Guys"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Protect Khadgar from his many admirers.

~Eona Strider, Wyrmrest Temple~

_Sylvanas and my family in one day. I’m starting to think I should’ve said yes when Jastor offered me that little yellow pill._

The scraping noise from the bottom of my boots colliding with the frostbitten stone tormented my ears. I hated that sound—I always felt like a string instrument was snapping whenever I walked. Wyrmrest Temple had many ways of seeping under my skin—and it didn’t stop with the floor.

I remained close to the massive stone walls as I walked. They were a dull gray and cooler than death’s touch. The towering structure wasn’t extravagant and had no intention of being so; it was supposed to be strong. Aged yet standing tall. Daunting over all. 

One glance off to the side and I witnessed the wide gap between this level and the ground. I did not miss my days here.

_It reminds me of Sylvanas. I really don’t want to think about lunch right now…or how angry Jaina will be after paying the bill._

“Welcome back.”

The greeting was dripping with acid and made my stomach twist into knots. I turned to see a member of the Red Dragonflight in her humanoid form. No matter what disguise she wore, her disgust was clear as crystal. 

“Have you returned to bring more shame to the Life-Binder?” The She-Dragon’s voice was so melodic and so malicious at the same time. “I suppose if Zelda is still busy cowering on Outland, she would send you to finish her work.” 

I kept walking. I’d heard much worse, and the bitterness towards my mother was something I had become accustomed to. _I wonder if this is why she stayed away. To avoid them. That’s a tough decision to make. To be surrounded by death or by hate._

I had already reached the teleporting device that Kalec had made so long ago. Dragons offered rides to the different levels of the temple, but this was a… _safer_ means of transportation. 

I lifted my hand and made a gentle gesture with my fingers. Little streams of light followed my movements. At the end, they grew in intensity and filled the entire room, blocking out another line of insults. 

“EEEEEEEEP—!” As my new surroundings materialized, my boots finally gave out and I slammed into the frigid stone. I released my frustration with one single puff of air as I blew my bangs away. _On the bright side, Jaina will kill me and end this stupid day when I return to Dalaran._

I stumbled as I got back to my feet, ignoring the judgemental stares of the winged guards as I stepped up onto the main platform. A chilly horizon of gray skies and snow-capped mountain peaks could be seen from the top of the temple. This was one of the rare places I did feel cold. Who wouldn’t at the top of the world? 

 _She wouldn’t._ I searched the Queen’s Quarters for my grandsmother. My chest ached when I saw Ysera’s empty spot, with one of her pillows still leaning on a marble pillar.

“Hey there! You look younger since last I saw you—or was it older?” The Bronze dragon, Chronormu, wondered with a pudgy finger tapping her cheek. 

I smiled and stood in front of the first person I met on Azeroth. It was odd seeing her without the fear of being trapped in the timestreams—she was always present during historical events. “Hi, Chromie. Have you seen Alexstrasza?” 

_I have to find some way to convince her to help Anduin. He has enough on his plate with Genn and his father and the throne. He doesn't deserve to be in any pain on top of that..._

“Afraid not, she’s overlooking a memorial for…” Chromie’s wide green eyes glanced at the pillow, then looked back at me. “She won’t be here for a while, but I’m all ears, _Eonarmu!_ ” 

 _Blegh! That sounds awful on the ears! Why did my mother have to name me_ that _of all things?_ I smiled through the pain and tucked my bangs behind my long ears. “Same here. If I listen hard enough, I can pick up goblin radio signals.” 

Chromie giggled. “That’s why I love my job, the mortal races are so intriguing! Oh, speaking of mortals, you’re overlooking the summit, aren't you?” 

My head bobbed slowly up and down. “I am...why do you ask?”

Chromie patted down her snow-white bangs. She said, “Be careful. You may want to find Khadgar when you go back, the summit leaders are in danger.”

_Alexstrasza will have to wait, I have to keep Anduin safe first. I want to make sure he's okay...and everyone else, of course! That's right. Other people...that I cannot name at this moment because...there are too many?_

“I will—I’ll head back now. Miss you, Chromie.” I replied.

My hands dove into my pockets for my hearthstone as a spark lit up in Chromie’s eyes. The rock glowed in my hands and I recognized the sympathetic glint in her green gaze. 

“I’m sorry about what Wrathion said, Eona.” 

My eyes widened. “What?”

Chromie didn’t answer. She had already melted away in the invasion of white light. 

 

~Khadgar, Dalaran~

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I repeated.

Archmage Aethas Sunreaver bowed his hooded head. “So it is. I’ve seen worse.”

Bloody stains had dried on the floor, and the bodies of the guards had been removed. As they were whisked away from prying eyes, I made a silent promise to address their families. I tried not to think about their last moments as my gaze flew across the room.

Kalec and Archmage Modera explored the ruins of Violet Hold, the broken prison of Dalaran. Magical barriers were shattered. Cells were opened wide like gaping wounds. Aethas’ shrouded figure shuddered as he studied them. 

_Aethas is no longer a part of the Council of Six, yet he still remains a loyal member of the Kirin Tor. I wish he would reclaim his position…it would help with Dalaran’s neutrality, and he has suffered much from our hands._

“Smell anything?” Modera glanced back at Kalec.

The Blue dragon snapped, “I’m not a dog…! Let me check.”

Modera scaled the steps back up to the entrance and stood on my other side, placing me as a barrier against Aethas. We watched as our fourth member stood in the very center of the darkened room. Kalec’s body jerked and twisted out of his disguise as he stretched out into his true form. Cobalt scales glittered like a blanket of stars. Shadows above the prison morphed into wings. Two purple eyes blinked open and stared back at us.

Kalec sighed, “Ah, much better. That feels so restraining after awhile.” 

“I suddenly find it evident why Lady Proudmoore wanted her…space.” Aethas muttered. I could imagine his judging emerald gaze beneath his gray hood.

“Hold on…I think I got something,” Kalec announced. The massive dragon lifted his head and sniffed the air. 

“Come on, boy! I’ll give you a snickerdoodle if you find the bad guys!”

“Modera…no.”

Modera leaned on her staff. The tip let off a violet glow, and turned her gray hair pink. “Fine…snickerdoodles are unhealthy, I’ll get him an apple or something.”

Kalecgos’ colossal form only moved a few paces to be on the other side of Violet Hold. He stuffed his face into one of the cells and pulled back. 

“There was a dragonkin held in this one,” Kalec muttered, but his voice was well heard by us. 

“A frost wyrm,” I recalled. “Shivermaw, I believe.” 

“Used to be Eldragosa,” Kalec replied.

“Oh…my apologies,” I said.

“No, it’s alright. I didn’t really care for her.” Kalec inspected another cell. “Ugh, this one reeks! When did we acquire a Vampyr?”

“Modera loves exotic pets. I recall when she kept an _elven prince_ in here,” Aethas remarked.

Modera gasped and peered over my shoulders to scowl at the elf. “Kael’thas put himself in here and you know it!”

“You didn’t feed him enough, and look where it got him!”

“I’m sorry Kael ran off into the sunset with _Illidan_ and not  _you_ , Aethas.”

“Don’t apologize to me! Rommath was crushed!”

“QUIET!” I slammed my staff onto the floor, silencing the two. My shoulders heaved with deep breaths. _It’s like I’m attending the summit. The Horde and Alliance followed me here. WHY CAN’T THEY JUST GET ALONG?_

_Oh…this is why Jaina left._

“I got the scent!” Kalec announced. 

“Good boy!” Modera shouted. I shot her a look of disapproval as I gripped my staff. 

“Wait,” Kalec’s wings rested on his back like the shell of a turtle as he waddled by containment cells. “Something is amiss…”

Kalec looked up, his blue snout twitching. “They’re still in here.” 

My eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Braizers holding violaceous flames were blown out by the shadows. 

We retrieved our staffs in union. I assessed the murky darkness, searching for the jesters that danced in the shadows. I was thankful for the soft aura that Modera’s and Aethas’ staffs emitted.

A growl came from somewhere in the chamber. 

“Kalecgos?” I called out to the ebony silhouettes. 

Aethas wrenched one of his hands from his staff and fire crackled to life in his palm. In one flawless motion, he threw the flames up at the ceiling. They hovered there, and unveiled the room.

“Kalec!” Modera’s skin paled at the sight of Kalec’s limp form on the floor. Dark mists of magic encased the Blue dragon at the center of the prison. 

The snicker of shadows filled the chamber. “Fools! This pitiful rock cannot contain the Legion. We will always be here…we will paint the streets red with your blood!”

_I know that voice. Lord Malgath—a fel orc, one of the Legion’s beloved lackeys. His will not hesitate to slaughter anyone in this city, especially the summit attendees._

“Why are they here?” Modera whispered. “I thought they found a way out of the hold! Why would they tarry here?”

Aethas came upon the realization first. “To capture us.” 

 _Cut off the head of the dragon. The city will fall._ I held my staff up warily, backing up towards the exit. “We must retreat. Now!” 

We sprinted towards the double doors that lead to safety. _I don’t want to leave Kalec behind, but at least one of us must escape—no one else knows that the prisoners have broken out! They would terrorize the city…and we would be trapped here as Dalaran burns._

The entrance gleamed like a vault of gold, tempting and beckoning.

A screech filled the chamber and our clear path to the exit was blocked. The Vampyr, Blood-Princess Thal’ena, landed before the double doors. Her wings stretched out, towering feet above us. 

“Mmm, you three smell delicious,” Thal’ena’s skin was the pale gray of a gargoyle, and her tongue flashed out along her lips as she studied us. Her crimson robes fanned out about her like a sea of blood. 

“Let us pass,” I warned, pointing the tip of my staff at her.

“Oh Khadgar. I heard many men and women and more adore you in this city…they woo over you, admire you,” The Vampyr purred. “so sweet…like a _dessert_.” 

She lunged forward, determined to take a bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Remember that time when I said I would be posting chapters randomly? Lol, that was fun XD I didn't plan on introducing some Council of Six members in this epoch, it just kinda sorta happened and I'm glad it did. We don't hear very much about them, especially Modera, so it was nice to do research on these guys! Wrathion should be making his glamorous appearance shortly—
> 
> Wrathion: And I expect some applause when that moment comes.
> 
> Anduin: And some screaming. 
> 
> Wrathion: Oh my dear old friend, so enthusiastic for my return!
> 
> Anduin: Of course...that's what I meant...
> 
> Jaina: I want the return of my danish! I'm willing to take a bite out of Wrath's stupid hat at this time. 
> 
> Eona: I heard food.
> 
> Jaina: DON'T YOU DARE DANISH DEMOLISHER!!
> 
> Eona the Danish Demolisher: I feel sort of a spiritual connection with this Thal'ena, maybe because we're both hungry all the time, but I'm looking forward to meeting her. 
> 
> Wrathion: Yes, Eona, we all know I'm lovely. I wish you a fond farewell, dear Adventurers! Love, fortune and glory to you!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Author: He said my line!! c:


	19. "Wanna Smell Books with Me?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Someone please hold Jaina's beer.

~Wrathion, the Violet Citadel~

“You have what was promised?”

The banners of lilac and cobalt churned at the top of the alabaster steps. Torches played games with shadows across the floor. Dalaran was known for its knowledge, and yet everything seemed hidden by a layer of smoke. 

Grand Magister Rommath gestured with his hands, and a wooden crate settled on the cold ground. 

Left and Right guarded the staircase at the bottom, so no one would interfere with our transaction. Anyone who came close was given a death stare along with a long rifle pointed at their nose. Such ferocity. Such power. 

I lifted a talon. Two more agents descended from the shadows and cracked open the lid with their blades. Rommath raised a slender eyebrow, but gave no reply. 

The artifact rested on cushions of silk. It's intricate golden design was uncanny, created by beings of much higher thinking. Certain parts of the strange machine gave off a soft glow. There was a subtle familiarity to it; it looked exactly like my visions from the Thunder King. 

“Our archeologists scoured Northrend, the Badlands, Uldum. We found the pieces scattered throughout.” The Grand Magister explained. His features were bathed in twilight hues of gold, azure and violet that made up the room. The dark velvet of my robes were sun-kissed by the gleam of the artifact, like the first rays of dawn. A new beginning. 

I hummed with satisfaction. _No more hiding. No more shame. The Black Dragonflight will reclaim what is rightfully ours._

“It was a pleasure doing business, Grand Magister,” His title rolled off my tongue. I snapped my fingers, and two more lackeys emerged from the darkness of the room to carry the crate out of sight. Rommath’s quirked eyebrow grew more rigid. 

“You have an abundance of recruits.” He said. 

I lightly shrugged my shoulders with a pinch of modesty. “I’m comfortable. I’m afraid you can't say the same.” 

I heard of the plight of the sin’dorei. The filthy remains of the Scourge still ran across their homeland, and the elves’ numbers were few. It was a shame, such powerful sorcerers turned to arcane addicts. They did not wander ruins simply for the joy of finding lost artifacts.

Rommath did not appear pleased to bring up the state of his homeland. " _That_ is not a Black dragon’s business.”

“But it could be.” I said. 

The bare muscles of his arms stiffened. Rommath muttered, “In what way?”

“I have plans, Grand Magister. Plans that will change the course of Azeroth,” Said I. I was poised and proud, shoulders out as if I had my wings on display. 

“Your people are near extinction; I can modify that. Your forces can join mine, and I will reward you.” 

Rommath was silent for a moment. “You sound like the Betrayer.” 

Illidan Stormrage. A famous figure of power. I never had the luxury to meet the former Lord of Outland, but he surely lived up to his reputation during the Legion’s recent invasion. 

I replied, “The Betrayer did what was necessary to achieve a higher goal; he opposed the Legion—”

“And many died in that campaign.” Rommath took another step closer. His fists were clenched like two threatening boulders of marble. The bridge of his nose creased like cracked alabaster. “Many suffered. Many are still paying the price. I would caution you with whatever plot you have come up with.” 

“...So that's a no on joining me?” I remarked, unfazed by his closeness and the pain laced within his voice.

The Grand Magister’s head cocked to the side. “The fate of my people is not for me to decide; that is the Regent Lord’s will, what little remains of it. I will inform him of your offer, and the costs.” 

Rommath gave a curt nod with his scarf still covering his lips, a last mockery that I still did not know everything he did.

His back was to me when I called out one last time. “Grand Magister?”

His shoulders slumped from exhaustion, and faced me with his expression still disguised behind scarlet silk. “Yes, Black Prince?”

My lips curled into a smile, baring my teeth with sharp points to be persuasive. “I urge you to consider my proposal. I doubt your people would like to be on the wrong side of history a second time.” 

Rommath’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you should follow your own advice.”

 

~Eona, the Purple Parlor~

“Jaina, please—”

“No. Jaina’s not here right now. Jaina’s on vacation.” Jaina held up a cautionary finger as she slumped down into one of the padded chairs. Her interest moved to the bookshelf near her as I pleaded with her.

“I don't know where Khadgar is and I got a bad-omens vibe from Chromie! Please? I’ll pay you back for the danish.” I replied.

Jaina shot me a foul look at the mere mention of the pastry. But she didn't answer. Instead, Jaina pulled a random book from the shelves, opened it, and hid her face behind the cover.

“Oh,” She moaned into the ink-smothered parchment filled with knowledge. “I miss that smell. I miss books. I miss my youth.”

I lowered her book so I could meet her gaze. “You’re still incredibly young.”

“Ha!” Jaina settled back in her chair and propped her feet up on the nearest table. “ _Young_. What is young? Innocence. Ambition. Love…”

Her fingers suddenly clenched the leather cover of the novel. “Arthas is dead.” 

I flinched and felt a pang of guilt. I managed a breathy response, “Yes, he is.”

Jaina gently tugged at the bottom of her braid. So much of her blonde locks had been consumed by the frosty white arcane. Her eyes were black and blue, like ice in the dark. Her voice was melodic like a river, and it had been frozen over. She was still young. But she looked exhausted, like the years had feasted on her spirit. 

“It's an odd thing to say, but...I feel like him now.” Jaina’s attention was lost to some illusion that I could not see. Her fingers twitched towards the brooch. “Arthas, he was such a contradiction. He loved his people. He fought undead. He opposed dreadlords. Then he changed. He killed his people. He lead the undead. He took orders from dreadlords.” 

Jaina stroked the crest with her thumb. “And now here I am. I used to have faith that everything would work out alright. I used to have faith in myself. Now...”

She shook her head, not for long, but with intensity, as if she could banish the thoughts like one could wring blood out of a healer’s rag. “Now I'm young. And my youth is gone.” 

I didn't know what to say. I stole a chair from the other side of the table and dragged it next to hers. At random I plucked a book from one of the shelves and glanced over at her. 

I bit my lip as I held up the novel. “Wanna smell books with me…?”

Jaina’s eyes were glassy as she stared at the cover. She nodded, a small smile on her lips. She wiped at her eyes. “I thought you would never ask.”

Our arms brushed together as I opened the first page and started to read. Yes, Khadgar and Dalaran needed us. But Jaina needed this more.

“The girl’s fiance dies in that one.” Jaina remarked.

I looked up at her smirk. “This is what I get for stealing your danish?”

“You brought a bookworm along to smell books, Eona. You should’ve known that something would get spoiled.”

~*~

We were still reading in the Purple Parlor when the air thickened from a teleportation spell. Arcane crackled across my skin and light filled the chamber.

I blinked a few times, stunned by the new change in the atmosphere. Jaina was used to the way of magics and was already standing, staff in hand. Her expression turned grim. 

“Khadgar!” I ran to him as I made out his form. 

I caught his arm as he stumbled, feeling the coldness of his skin through his dark blue robes. He was pale, and his forehead glistened with sweat as he swayed on his feet.

Archmages Modera and Aethas materialized on his sides. They wore the same drained expressions. Jaina helped Modera down as Khadgar teetered in my grasp.

“Eona...you never told me you had sisters,” Khadgar gasped. I held onto his arms, trying to still him as best as I could.

“Huh?” I said.

“Yes,” Khadgar held up a finger, pointing to the air around me. “There’s three of you...am I counting right? Aethas! What do your elf eyes see?”

“Stars...so many stars...” Aethas groaned and yanked off his hood to massage his temples. 

I lead Khadgar to a one-armed sofa as he spoke in his dreamy state of delirium. “You know, I bet if Sylvanas raised me from the dead...I’d be like Beetlejuice.” 

I sat the Archmage down and frowned as I leaned over him. “Please don't give me that mental image, Khadgar.” 

“No, it's perfect! You can be Lydia! IT’S SHOWTIME—wee!” I urged Khadgar down to lie on the sofa, smoothing out his hair as I did so. 

I glanced over at Jaina as she examined the other two mages. 

“What happened to them?” I asked. _I wonder if Anduin is still here. He’s a skilled healer, he might know._

“You know, Eona, you smell really nice.” Khadgar rasped below me. “Kind of like strawberries. Which is funny, you look like a strawberry. You’re covered in seeds…”

I crossed my arms. My white linen shirt came down to my elbows, so the freckles drizzled across my arms were visible. 

“Where were you last, Modera?” I heard Jaina ask.

I joined the two mages across the parlor. Modera seemed less hysterical than Khadgar, but just as exhausted. 

“Violet Hold,” She gasped. “the prisoners escaped...we went to track them...they trapped us there. Kalecgos is still with them—”

My eyes flew open. Jaina and I exchanged a look.

“—then we faced the Vampyr…” Modera’s head tipped back as she gulped in air.

Jaina nudged my arm. She didn't need to. The two red dots on Modera’s neck said it all. I sprinted back to Khadgar. His skin was branded with the same two marks. 

“Aethas too,” Jaina said quietly, smoothing her robes as she stood upright. 

We backed away from the three limp mages, watching as their movements seemed to slow.

“If they…” I swallowed. “does that mean they’re stuck that way?”

“No. We have spells to remove it, and it's usually temporary. I can ask Anduin or Malfurion to tend to them.” Jaina glanced up at her own staff, then quickly retrieved the long weapons from where the mages lay. 

I nodded, moving my hair away from the front of my face. As I did so, Khadgar leaned up slightly, sniffing the air. 

“What about Kalec?” I said. 

Jaina returned to my side with their staffs and her eyes flickered over the sleeping bodies. “We’ll get him together. I’ll meet you at Violet Hold. Let’s clean up the Kirin Tor’s mess before the summit has the chance to notice.”

We stepped back into the shimmering portal and our feet echoed as we appeared at the staircase of the Violet Citadel. Jaina raced towards Anduin; I took the steps two at a time with my thoughts on Kalec.

I squinted as a familiar face lingered at the bottom of the steps. Grand Magister Rommath looked to my coming, his eyes analyzing me like a spellbook.

“Eona, I must speak with you.” He said as I was halfway down the mountain of steps. My calves were burning and I didn't care. Kalec’s face kept flashing before my eyes.

“I'm sorry, now is not a good time.” I remarked.

“It’s important—”

“Then we’ll discuss it later.” I finally reached the bottom of the stairs and sped past him. 

“You are going to slip if you move too swiftly, Lady _Sunstrider_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I love cliffhangers :3
> 
> Chromie: Me too! Although, I usually see them coming with my powers, but they're still entertaining--but that's not why I'm here. Author, you're messing with the timestreams!
> 
> Author: Don't worry, I have a permit.
> 
> Chromie: I'm sorry, Author. That bowl of edible cookie dough that you offered the Bronze Dragonflight was delicious, but it does not allow you to go willy-nilly with the past. The Dark Portal was closed for twenty years, making Eona's existence impossible!
> 
> *Awesome freaky lightshow happens. Nozdormu, Lord of Time, appears*
> 
> Nozdormu: Author, well met. I must say, your work with this new future for Azeroth is...entertaining, but Chronomu is correct.
> 
> Author: Jeez, Marvel didn't have these kinds of laws set up--then again, Deadpool was my co-writer. Protectors of Time, please hear me out! I have a loophole!
> 
> Nozdormu: Very well, Author. Do as you must. We will be watching...and if you can spare me a cameo, it would touch this old dragon's heart. You even let Kalecgos have a minor role in this story, and he's practically invisible!
> 
> Kalec: ...Thanks. 
> 
> Author: Will do, Lord Nozdormu! Thanks for stopping by, Chromie! As for you Awesome Adventurers, you can actually witness the first time Eona's parents met now, in the recently updated "Protectors of the Present"! Hope you enjoyed c: love, fortune and glory to you!!


	20. "Pastry Crimes"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Save the mages (I'm talking to you, Thedas).

My feet squeaked on the tile as I came to a stop. The world felt hazy around me, like I was trapped in a dream—or a most terrible nightmare.

_He knows._

My boots let out another shriek as I spun on my heel. Grand Magister Rommath’s face was mostly unreadable, but his stare was as watchful as stars in the night sky.

“How…” My voice was far more scratchy than normal. “how did you know?”

The Grand Magister seemed a lot taller than he did before. Intimidating. Threatening. My wild imagination twisted reality and I suddenly felt like I was standing before my own Vampyr, draped in blood-soaked robes, barring his sharp fangs. I wanted to run, and when I realized why I couldn't, my legs trembled.

I was terrified.

My family was filled with social pariahs, but I had kept one part of that lineage secret. It was one less thing I had to worry about on a new planet. Now the flat of the blade called vulnerability slid across my skin with a cool caress. _I’m the daughter of the so-called monster and the faraway coward. I am the spawn of the outcasts of Outland. And it has come back to bite me in the ass._

“I had my suspicions...the Black Prince confirmed them.” Rommath said. 

 _The daughter of a traitor was betrayed...how ironic._ I didn't have to believe Rommath’s words, but I knew the truth had a habit of stinging. It was searing in my chest now. 

I couldn't decide between fidgeting with my fingers or fixing every strand of hair on my head. I settled for crossing my arms across my torso, steeling myself for how bleak my life was about to become. “Are you going to kill me, then?”

“No.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“I should.” Rommath mimicked my actions as his bare arms folded across his chest. 

I loathed the new position that Wrath had put me in. Rommath knew my secret, which meant he had _leverage_. He had power over me. Wrathion had placed me on his chessboard, and now I was stuck taking his punishment for the game. 

A banging started in my head. Only when Jaina spoke did I realize it was her footsteps on the stairs as she fled down them. Her blue skirts fanned around her like choppy waves. 

Blue. 

_Kalec._

My inhale was deep and painful as I looked up at Jaina. She had no idea of my lineage. I preferred to keep it that way, but Kalec came first. 

“What are you doing? We need to move!” Jaina’s voice was back to it’s grim determination, young yet aged, and she grabbed my arm as she passed. 

I glanced back at Rommath one last time. What would he do next? Inform Sylvanas, and lead her to the peak of anger towards me? Set me up to an impossible task, bound to his will?

I had no clue. And the unknown clawed at my insides like a caged beast as Jaina blinked away from the Violet Citadel.

We suddenly appeared before the thick double doors of Violet Hold. Two guards stood at attention, adorned with troubled expressions as Jaina approached. 

“Questions will be answered later. Double the patrols of the city.” Jaina shouted orders like a veteran general and strode with the grace of the tides. The two guards raced down the coral ramparts. Jaina and I stopped before the crippled metal doors.

“Prisoners will spread across Dalaran. I informed council members Ansirem, Karlain, and Vargoth. We will rescue Kalec, and join them in the fight on the streets. We keep this as covert as we can.” 

_At least one of us has it together. Jaina really does deserve a vacation. After this, maybe Kalec can send Jaina to some island getaway where she can smell a bunch of books—and I’ll send her a danish. Oh, food. I miss the comfort of food right now—dammit, stomach, not now! Kalec and my future are on the line!_

Jaina pointed her staff at the entrance and the doors shuddered. The battered doorway was forced open by an incredibly unhappy host, coming to throw out her rude guests.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness quicker than Jaina’s. Embers emitted a weak lavender glow in braizers. My sight felt strained. There was a thickness in the air when I breathed in. I had become accustomed to the air saturated with magic as I stayed in Dalaran, but this was different. It was like trying to breathe underwater as something foreign filled my lungs.

My hands immediately went to my goggles, securing them on my face to mask the glow of my eyes. The shadows welcomed me with open arms, and I greeted it with both knives in my grasp. 

I glanced back at Jaina. The glow of her staff was the brightest object in the room; she was a lighthouse, searching the ebony seas for Kalec.

“ _I smell fel_.” 

_Lord Malgath—I remember him. It's sick and sad that I do._

I sensed something else in the dark with me. I stayed away from the walls and empty cells; being cornered in my profession was a death sentence. I stumbled on something as I backed up into the middle of the room.

“This behavior will not be tolerated.” Jaina’s tone was stern, like an adult addressing a child. “You will return to your cell or face the wrath of the Kirin Tor.” 

I did a costly move and glanced down at my feet. Once again, my vision was deceived, like a veil suppressing my view. Inside my leather gloves, my fingers ached from how tightly I held my daggers. 

“Ha! The Kirin Tor is nothing to us—beware the might of the Legion!” An orcish voice howled. 

Jaina’s eyes blazed with an icy blue light. “Beware of _me!_ ”

In one swift motion too perfect for mortals, Jaina pointed her staff at the empty space beside her. The air caught fire and red flames roared. 

Lord Malgath’s form was released from the shadows, crying out in pain. I wanted to extract my own hatred on the Legion, but I was onto something. I jammed one of my fists in my pockets and threw a flare at the ground. 

Light popped into place like fireworks and the ground was illuminated. Kalec’s dragon form towered over me, drenched in some dark mist.

_Stars! I can't get rid of that junk…_

“Jaina!” I juggled sharp objects in my hands and blasted my pistol at the fel orc. The archmage looked over at me, the source.

I gestured with my gun at Kalec. “Switch places with me!”

“We’re in battle, Eona! You could use a more formal term—”

“Can you teach me proper grammar and word choice later?” I said and raced back towards the entrance. My words were wispy against the wind and my knives whistled as I gained speed. Jaina ducked as I leapt over the stairs and planted my foot in Malgath’s abdomen. 

Jaina went off to undo the warlock’s bonds. I was alone, my mind distracted with thoughts of Rommath and Kael’thas and impending doom. 

I wanted to gag as Malgath panted from my blow. His breath carried the heavy stench of the Legion; brimstone and sourness and decay. It made me feel younger and smaller, summoning memories of days long ago when I visited the toxic lands of Shadowmoon Valley. 

I was supposed to be fast and fatal. I was supposed to be a tornado, unleashing the ferocious fury of nature in quick, twisting blows. But I was none of those things; I was just a scared kid running around in circles. 

My footing slipped and I crashed down the stairs. The sharp edges of the stone cut into my side, promising bruises and slightly cracked ribs. The pain was nothing as my skull knocked against the tile floor. _Foreshadowing_ resonated to intensify the agonizing throb. 

“And another so-called hero falls to the Legion,” The orc was cloaked in shadow, but I could imagine the satisfied smirk on his face from his tone. 

My fingers hastened back to the depths of my pockets and shook as I tossed a handful of little paper balls packed with ammunition at Malgath’s looming silhouette. 

As my to-be murderer was stunned by the popping lights and stinging pain, I yanked my boomstick out of it's holder. I winced as the weapon went off. The sound of Malgath’s corpse hitting the ground followed. 

“Jaina,” I called out from my upside-down position, staring up at the inky-black ceiling that threatened to reign over my whole world. “I’ve fallen...and I can't get up.” 

Kalec’s half-human, half-elven face hovered over mine. The long tendrils of his hair eerily reminded me of Malgath’s magic. The longer I stared, the more he started to sway...he multiplied into three Kalecs, each of them bearing a look of weariness and worry. 

“Before you get on to me about my carelessness and pastry crimes, I have to tell you...what do I have to tell you?” I asked, my eyebrows scrunched together as my thoughts scattered like a pile of dead leaves.

Six Jainas appeared with her braid swaying like part of an old clock. It was a dizzying, hypnotizing motion that made my head spin. 

“Are you alright, Eona?” The Jainas asked. Despite the many voices talking, they sounded faint. 

“You know…” I held up a finger as I pondered what I wanted to say. “if Khadgar was turned undead by Sylvanas...I think he would be a lot like Beetlejuice. I see it now.”

“...Damn, I broke her. Sylvanas is going to kill me now,” Each Jaina said and pursed their lips. But now all of the copies were fading, and the endless night was taking over.

“Wait...isn't that...isn’t that my line?” 

Before I could catch her response, darkness took over.

 

 

~Anduin Wrynn, Violet Citadel~

_Aunt Jaina desperately needs a vacation. It takes me a while to recall the last time she smiled, or laughed, or a time when her goblet was filled with water instead of a...stronger substitute._

“You look troubled, Your Majesty. You’ve looked troubled for quite some time.” 

A larger figure caught up to me in the carpeted halls of the guest suite. The scent of crushed leaves and fresh dirt crossed my nostrils. 

_Father?_

I buried the thought as soon as it came. I didn't have the time nor the strength to dwell on it. The true figure striding beside me was the night elf leader; Malfurion Stormrage. His form was truly unique; from the antlers that rose high above his head to the feathers that billowed down his arms. Malfurion was the embodiment of nature.

I straightened my back and offered him a polite nod. “Thank you for your concern, Archdruid. I learned the look from Lady Proudmoore.” 

Malfurion’s lips smiled beneath his owl-shaped nose. I was allowed to utter such remarks in his company; we spared together many times. Playing Hearthstone, of course. 

“I’d rather you acquire that than Greymane’s stubbornness,” Malfurion’s voice lowered as we passed closed doors along the way. The halls were lit with faint candles and furnished with violet silk. The pearlish texture of the walls was far more refined than the halls of Stormwind Keep. Dalaran held a faint resemblance to my home, but there was a strange feeling to it; the exotic energies and the endless knowledge. Aunt Jaina was lucky to spend time in such a bizarre place.

Aunt Jaina spoke of some accident that occured, and I was to tend to the victims. Malfurion was given the same orders, and we reported to the Purple Parlor together. When I activated the portal to the tower, a tingling sensation raced across my skin. The magic of mages was thrilling, but I preferred the warmth and peace that radiated in my core when I used the Light. 

My gaze flit across the seating area to the three limp bodies. _Archmage Khadgar, Archmage Modera, Archmage Aethas...they’re the most powerful mages in Dalaran! What in Azeroth’s name happened here?_

Malfurion and I exchanged a look before I walked over to Khadgar. He appeared older from the aging spell, but in this moment, he truly seemed weak and feeble. His skin was pale and his chest rose with uneven breaths. 

“Our archmages seemed to have a run in with a _Vampyr_ ,” Malfurion gestured with his claws beneath Khadgar’s neck. Two small entry wounds swelled at the base of his throat. 

“How did this happen?” I asked. My brows furrowed together as I looked up at the green-haired elf.

“It’s Dalaran, King Anduin. Mages are known for their dangerous practices—you’re questioning the lot that juggles fire with their bare hands.” There was a hint of distaste in Malfurion’s voice when he spoke of them. I chose not to address it. 

“So how do we tend to them?” I said. 

“Hmm...perhaps you could burn the venom out with the light, and I will remedy the rest?” Malfurion offered. When I nodded, he took a step back, “I’ll restrain the other two. Be careful with that one.” 

I kneeled down next to the archmage and pressed my fingers over the two small gashes. I jumped when Khadgar’s eyes flew open. 

“You smell…” He sucked in a heavy breath like the air was wine. I didn't budge. I murmured a prayer and a refreshing wave of light flew to my fingers. 

I liked to think that I knew Khadgar very well. We exchanged many letters and met secretly during the recent Legion invasion. He was one of the few that did not detest my belief in peace, and did not require me to have the same intimidating presence of _Father_. 

“Anduin…?” Khadgar rasped. His heavily dilated eyes focused on me. “What...where is...where is Eona?” 

My face felt hot at the sound of her name. My skin tingled like I was calling upon the Light. I looked down and shook my head. “I don't know, Khadgar.” 

Another thought came to me. I glanced back at Malfurion. He was too busy directing the potted plants of the room to restrain the archmages. _Khadgar may not remember me asking, with the loss of blood and all. I’ll be lucky if he understands a word I'm saying._

“Eona and Ranger-General Halduron seem close,” I said carefully. “Are they…?”

“No, thank the Light. The whole ‘sexy cheetah’ nickname concerns me,” Khadgar groaned and turned over. I rose to my feet to keep my hands on top of his wound, whispering another prayer. Some color returned to Khadgar’s skin when the light faded in my palms. “But she’s chosen worse.” 

I froze. “Chosen worse…?”

Khadgar nodded into one of the pale blue pillows. His voice was muffled as he said, “There was this goblin on Draenor that reeked of sarcasm—but I’ll never get over her first boyfriend. Who names their child _Om?_ Must’ve been a troll thing, or a food craze. He died, found an Alliance banner on his dead body one day.” 

My eyes widened. _Well then...irony at its finest._

I thought back to my history. _Have I been with anyone else, in the romantic sense…? I was always trying to convince diplomats of peace, and studying the Light. It was hard to incorporate any other personal affair with everyone always leaning over my shoulder—and Genn shoving suitors at me. Every person I met through nobles and diplomatic gatherings was so proper and precise. I think I have enough of that in my life, Eona is different. I feel like I’m allowed to be human around her—I’m allowed to be myself._

“But there was one…” Khadgar tapped the edge of the pillow. “Yes, this one fellow in Pandaria that she dated. Eona really liked him—she wouldn't shut up about him.”

My face grew hot again as he continued. “—Then Alexstrasza threw a bunch of suitors her way. Those did not end well.”

“Anduin? The cleansing only works if you summon the Light,” Malfurion’s voice shook me from my daze.

“Right—! Sorry,” The rest of the time I cared for Khadgar was spent in physical silence, but my mind was filled with ramblings. _When I first met Eona, she never showed me any hostility. Yes, Garrosh was chasing both of us around with a giant stick, but she never mentioned the troll that died because of_ my _people._

I finished my work with Khadgar and removed the venom from the rest. It was a tense job, but I completed it unscathed. The portal to the Purple Parlor shimmered as newcomers arrived. 

Jaina had become a pillar, supporting the sagging Kalecgos that leaned on her and carrying a limp form in her arms. 

I stood as soon as I recognized her. Rosy-pink skin and copper locks like the birth of the day. Freckles like the lingering stars of the dawn. Eona’s smile was like the early-rising sun, but it did not shine in this moment.

“You really need to lay off the pastries,” Jaina cast a glare down at Eona’s unmoving form, then her eyes sought mine. “Don't tell Sylvanas.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi Awesome Adventurers and welcome back! I know it's been a while, school has started up again and I'm easing back in, but I haven't forgotten about you! This one is actually a little longer than other chapters because you deserve it c:
> 
> I haven't written from Anduin's point of view in like five years, so my life has gone full circle, like a doughnut c: I kinda didn't want to mention Eona's romantic history, because this story isn't all about her, but it does give you guys some information about the overall timeline here. And I got to make my own little easter egg; Eona's first boyfriend, Om, is actually named after a guy one of my aunts dated a long time ago. Never met him, it's just a random thing I learned one day and I thought it was cool. I was this close to giving this secondary character a brother named "Ramen"...still contemplating XD
> 
> I've already started Eona and Zelda's next chapter, hopefully I can post them quicker. Love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers!!


	21. "Good Luck on Your Human"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Make it through a desperate morning.

~Eona, Dalaran~

_I smell food._

I peeked through one eye at my surroundings. It was my guest room in Dalaran; the one bag I had packed was still sitting at the end of the bed. Two windows peered out of the circular room at the icy cobalt sky. The silky midnight drapes and warm, tangy smells inside the room were a sharp contrast to the cold exterior.

I couldn't recall too much of what happened before. Little whispers in my mind came along, some of Wrathion, some of Kalec. I ignored the ones that wanted to reopen old wounds of my childhood—I didn't have the strength to face those yet. Overall, I wasn't in too much pain, and I wasn't surrounded by the raging fires of the underworld. So far, so good. 

I nudged my head to the side, allowing my other eye to open and stare at my guest. Anduin was engrossed in some letter with the seal of Ironforge. His posture was quite stiff to be sitting in such a comfortable-looking chair. 

I nudged my chin up on the pale lavender pillow beneath me and watched Anduin silently for a moment. His eyes were extravagant blue hues like the lakes in Zangarmarsh, and they flit like ripples as he read the piece of parchment. Anduin’s body was still; he spoke with his eyebrows, darting up and down and finally scrunching together in contemplation. His thin, pale lips mouthed the words on the page, gentle but silent pronunciations. Peaceful and golden. Anduin reminded me of the beach, and I suddenly began to wonder if that was why I liked the coast so much. I still remembered sitting with him on the beach, long ago… 

The longer I stared, the more my face burned and my heartbeat echoed throughout my body. I cursed myself inwardly as my foot itched and the sheets of the bed murmured as I moved. 

Anduin glanced up over the parchment. His eyes met mine. “Hello.”

“Hi,” I croaked. I cleared my throat to banish the cobwebs and hoarseness in my voice.

Andy set the paper down. I sat up and pulled my hair back. I was wearing one of my old t-shirts of a place I visited. The violet linen depicted the Undercity and was marked with sayings like, ‘ _It’s a hard-knock afterlife!’_ and _‘the Sunwell will come out tomorrow!’._ A few aches and sore spots protested when I shifted, but I had dealt with bruises before.

“Thought you might want this when you woke up,” Anduin reached for something by the dresser near him and returned with a tray full of tasty treats. I practically hummed with delight as Anduin set the platter before me. My eyes were bulging in the presence of powdered mana buns and flaky cinnamon rolls topped with gooey, heavenly-scented icing. _There’s a reason why I’m friends with so many mages. This is it._

I grinned at him. “You know me so well. If you’re trying to poach me from the Horde, it's working.”

“That’s the plan,” He smiled. I started plucking things from the tray as Andy spoke, “Jaina wouldn't tell me much, she said you tripped and hit your head on some stairs—I find that hard to believe. You're far too graceful for that.”

“I thought you knew me well,” My eyebrow rose at his comment and gestured towards the tray full of mouth-watering delicacies. 

Anduin ignored my comment and said, “I hope you don't mind, I tended to your injuries. She did not want the other summit members to learn about the many injuries that have occurred—what are you doing?”

I scooped some dry cereal out of a bowl and pressed the different-colored flecks between two slices of bread. When I held it up, some cereal rained down from the make-do sandwich. _There are plenty of other savory options available, but I'm starving, and old habits die hard._

“My mom calls it the ‘Desperate Morning’,” I said. Milk was rare on Outland, so I had come up with this alternative years ago. “It's better than it looks, and sounds. Wanna try?” 

Andy’s eyebrows scrunched together in his contemplative matter. He nodded, and I set the made sandwich on one of the spare plates for him. I whipped up a second one as he studied the new meal set before him. We raised our Desperate Mornings together, and I giggled as Anduin’s head tilted at the few pieces of cereal that escaped his hold, pinkies out. 

We each took a bite at the same time. The cereal was fruity, and the bread offered a bland balance to it. Crunchy and soft. Colorful and plain. Two things that shouldn't be together, and they tasted blissful.

Andy’s eyebrows rose and he slowly nodded. “I like it. There’s a harmony between the tastes.”

I covered my mouth when I spoke. “ _Harmony_. I like that. Sounds like honey.”

“If we added honey, do you think it would taste well?” Andy asked. “It’s sticky, so it would keep the cereal together.”

“Hmm...I don't know, we’ll have to try it. Sometimes I sprinkle sugar on it for zest,” I replied and took another bite. The sound of cereal crushing was muffled by the bread in my mouth. 

I took another glance at Anduin. He looked a little ridiculous with the sandwich, trying to keep his composure as he ate. It took all of my self restraint not to smirk at his suspended pinkies. When I was with him, it was so easy not to worry about everything else. I still did—I was biting my nails over what Rommath would do, but when I was with Anduin...it didn't scare me as much. 

“Thank you for healing me,” I said. “and...for making me feel better. You’re really good at both of those things.” 

Anduin glanced up from his half-eaten Desperate Morning. “I…it’s my pleasure.”

I suddenly cringed when I realized how stupid I probably sounded. I looked over at Anduin and caught him staring. 

 _Dammit!_ My gaze returned to the feast in front of me. My eyes wandered to the side, and—no surprise—they found his again.

 _Stars._ Anduin’s chair scooted backwards. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, I’ll leave you to rest—”

 _Wait!_  

Like a reflex, my hand caught his before he was out of reach. I was just as startled as he was.

“I…” I stammered, trying to spit out an explanation quick enough. His eyes didn't leave my face, accompanied with a furrowed brow that I was beginning to understand.

“Can you stay, please?” I asked. My hand was still holding onto his. “I just—I don't want to be alone right now.” 

It wasn't a lie. Once Anduin left, I would have to face the haunted, mocking faces behind my eyelids alone. I wasn't ready for that yet. 

_Or perhaps there’s another reason I suddenly crave his company…besides showering me with sugar-coated treats._

Without words, Anduin resumed his former position and scooted closer this time. Our hands were still joined together. Andy’s skin was smoother than flower petals and the silk sheets beneath our hands. I thought I caught the faint aroma of incense on his clothes like he had just returned from a chapel. He always found an excuse to hold my hand when we were together in Pandaria. I always thought that this single, specific display of affection was his sassy way of silently standing up to the world; the crown ruled every single aspect of his life, but not his heart. 

“Eona, are you alive yet—?”

Anduin and I jumped apart as the door creaked open. The tray of pastries rattled on my lap as I looked up at Kalec. He was faring much better than when I had last seen him, although there were still faint traces of circles beneath his eyes. Part of me was surprised by the slight spurt of irritation I felt when Kalec appeared. 

The blue dragon sighed as he entered the room and studied my face. “Do you feel any better?” 

“Much...thanks.” I said. After letting go of Andy’s hand, my skin had been consumed by an invisible frost. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest, trying to restore the warmth to my body. Anduin scratched the back of his head with his stare downcast. 

“How about you? You seem more...awake.” I replied.

Kalec nodded. “I’ve had finer moments…”

His breath turned into a hiss as he studied Anduin. I licked my lips as his stare intensified. “Hold on…”

Kalec pointed to Anduin’s plate. “She shared her _food_ with _you? ”_

Andy’s eyebrows went up around the bridge of his nose. “Yes…?”

Kalec looked back to me, betrayal flushed across his face. “I’ve known you for years. I tried to take one crouton—just one—from your salad once...and you pointed a _gun_ at my _head_.” 

“You tried to steal from a _rogue_. What did you expect?”

Kalec rolled his eyes. “Now I know where Wrathion gets it from…”

I couldn't hold back the flinch that followed that statement. It didn't go unnoticed by my brother in title. 

Anduin cleared his throat politely and stood from his chair. His attention never left me as he bowed and backed out of the room. “I’ll leave you two.”

I didn't want him to go, but I still preferred Kalec’s company over solitude. Kalec nodded absentmindedly to the king of Stormwind and softly shut the door behind him. The blue dragon’s hand lingered against the creamy stucco.

“What did he do?” Kalec asked. He didn't have to say Wrath’s name—I had a feeling it would’ve been spat like a curse if he did.

“According to Rommath…” My breath shook when I mentioned the Grand Magister. “Wrathion told him who my father was.” 

Kalec turned his back on me and gazed out one of the windows. A faint reflection of his face was visible. “We could try to convince Chromie to intervene—”

“She warned me about it.” I said, sliding the tray to the edge of my bed and gathering my knees to my chest. Kalec glanced back at me.

“I didn't know it was a warning at the time...she apologized for what he said…” I rested my chin on my kneecap.

“If she knows, it might be doubtful that she’ll help us.” Kalec murmured.

“Do you think my mom would budge from Outland?” 

“I don't even know why she’s still there,” Kalec admitted with a heavy sigh. A flicker of pain crossed his reflection. “I don't want secrets between us either. I should have told you before...I lied about seeing Tyrygosa. I wanted to convince you and everyone else that I had moved on...I am sorry. I should have told you.” 

My mom had worked with Tyrygosa for some time on Outland. They did not get along well. Kalec’s news didn't sting very much.

“I'm not really mad at you,” I replied. “or him…”

Kalec’s reflection was bathed in shock. He whirled to face me so quickly that his blue coat flailed out like wings. “How could you say that?” 

I took in a shaky breath that reminded me of my wounds. Before I could speak, Kalec huffed, “You always go easy on him.” 

My eyes narrowed. Despite the protests of bruises, I slid to the edge of the mattress, holding onto the silk sheets tight as I looked up at Kalec. “Have you forgotten how young he is? He's barely a decade old, Kalec! When I first came here, it was _my job_ to carry him across the Eastern Kingdoms like some puppet with strings attached for Alexstrasza to play with. Wrathion was just a _toy_ , some cruel experiment that already had a reputation before he was born!” 

I was on my feet now. I glanced once worriedly at the door, wondering if anyone would hear us. Then I remembered Kalec’s hand resting on the surface. He had silenced the room with magic. Even in this argument with him, I couldn't deny it was a clever move. 

“I never supported that!” Kalec snapped. “I didn't even know what the Red Dragonflight was up to! Do you really think that if I knew Rhea was playing undead alchemist in the Badlands, I would have let it happen?” 

“You didn't do much to stop them!” 

“You are absolutely right, because I was busy cleaning up Malygos’ mess of corpses!” Kalec wasn't one to argue, and as his shoulders slumped, I knew he was done. So was I. Kalecgos meant too much to me. I wouldn't spend time firing words and insults at him if it would save my life. 

“You’re right. You never supported that,” I repeated, holding my arms against my chest as pain spiked around my ribs. “I'm sorry.” 

“So am I.” Kalec said, his voice level and filled with guilt. “But not for _him_.” 

I gasped from the bruises I bore. I continued with words barely above a croak, “When I first came here...it was my job to keep Wrathion safe. It was my job to protect him.” 

All of the anger evaporated from the room, like the monsoons had unleashed rivers of rain and now the sun had come out to dry the land. Kalec clasped my shoulders, giving me an apologetic squeeze. “And it was _my_ _job_ to protect _you_. I've been failing miserably at it since…”

“I'm still here. I’d give you a medal.” I replied in a tiny voice. 

Kalec pulled me in for a tight embrace, and even if my sealed wounds hissed agony, I didn't care. I buried my face in his warm leather vest as his chin claimed the top of my head.

“If you ask Jaina out again, take her to smell books. Trust me on this one.” 

I felt Kalec’s chin tilt and roll on my scalp. “I’ll keep that in mind...and if you want to ruin your reputation entirely and start seeing Anduin again, he’s always wanted to travel to Winterspring.”

“...Good luck on your human.” 

“Likewise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You know the best thing about a random updating schedule? Two updates in one week :3 pretty sure I'm halfway to the Underworld right now, but yay! More chapters! 
> 
> If you would like to try the "Desperate Morning" (which is actually pretty good, totally recommend) the recipe is Froot Loops and plain white bread. Very filling, but the Froot Loops do run away from you, so be warned! This cute little scene between Eona and Anduin actually wasn't planned—I didn't even think we'd get them in the same room alone together in this Epoch (we'll have much more of that in a couple of chapters ;), but it was a cute scene to write. Eona's argument with Kalec was planned, that sucker's like a month old and I think it was a very important scene to have. I don't see Kalec as an arguer, so the confrontation was short-lived, but I feel like it was a good representation of the different relationships between these characters. Sorry for the Director's Commentary, I'll see you guys in the next chapter! Love, fortune and glory to you!!


	22. "One of the Stiff Ones?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Buy a bottle of goblin-made Raid.

~Khadgar, the Dining Hall~

“Mind if we join you?” 

Exhaustion kept my head hung low, and I glanced up through eyelashes at Turalyon and Alleria. Staring at the pair bothered my eyes, stinging from Lyon’s glowing armor and Alleria’s striking golden locks. The couple was bathed in the sunset hues of the evening like ghosts, created by the wild musings of my tired mind. 

“Normally I would have a pun prepared, but…” I shook my head, which felt very heavy on my shoulders. “I’m a little slow today.”

The two took their seats across from me. Race leaders chatted at the long table, schismed just like the Barrens of Kalimdor in the Cataclysm; orcs sat with tauren, and dwarves preferred the company of draenei. One curious pairing was the Black Prince chatting with the Regent Lord of Quel’thalas. 

Alleria started to fill the plate before her meanwhile Turalyon’s gaze lingered. I kept my eyes on the cold bowl of soup set before me. I wanted to spend time with them, to make up for the years long lost. But now, I longed for two rare elements in Azeroth; peace and quiet. Or as close as I could get to it with the back of my skull humming like a swarm of glowing flies from the Zangarmarsh. 

“Poor Khadgar, is your daughter draining you?” Alleria’s dry humor didn't cease as I pictured her smirk. “I haven't seen her in the past few days. What, did you ground her?” 

Eona had been recovering from her “trip”, as Jaina called the incident, for the past few days. I hoped she would be alright, I couldn't bear to think of informing her mother of the incident. Dragon tempers were dangerous, and a mother’s was most atrocious (as I had learned over the years).

“Shouldn't you be worried more about your own child, Alleria?” I remarked with more sharpness than intended. 

“Arator wants to start attending the summit,” Turalyon exclaimed, his eyes shining brightly at the mere mention of his son. “He’s been enjoying his time on Azeroth. We play catch whenever we meet, just father and son.”

I pressed my fingers to my temples, both to keep my head up and rub away the throbbing. “Eona and I used to do that.”

The two paused, then slowly nodded. “I could see that.”

“Have you seen Jaina?” I croaked. I cleared my throat and finally pushed my nearly-full bowl of paste away. It magically lifted itself into the air and teetered out of sight. 

“You know, I think I saw her outside earlier with…” Alleria snapped her fingers a few times as she tried to finish the sentence. “What is that person’s name?” 

“Who is it? Describe them,” Turalyon replied and turned towards his lover in his seat.

“It's a man. The man who…” Alleria’s face scrunched up as she thought. “Damn, who is he?”

 _Hmm, someone invisible to society…aha! Kalec!_ I said, “Kalec?”

“Who’s Kalec?” They asked. 

I nodded and pushed away from the table. “That's the one. I must speak with her. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be performing my vanishing act now.” 

The two fake clapped. “Ha ha. Humorous.”

“Stay as cool as a cucumber,” I managed wink as I stood. 

“How can we when your Winterspring locks are out of sight?”

I turned away before the flustered shade of red on my cheeks could be noticed. My legs knew the way through the marble corridors with velvet drapes as my mind wandered. _Am I really worthy of such compliments? It's been more than enough years to accept this...look. Perhaps the comments are from sympathy._

I heaved a silent sigh as I reached the main entrance of the Violet Citadel. The evening sky was splashed with the colors of autumn, bleeding scarlet and amber across the mage city. As I descended the steps, a few stopped and pointed. A guard was friendly enough to wave. I continued to walk, ignoring the stares. 

 _Am I really worth the fuss?_ I glanced down at my hands. They were always a crude reminder, and I had forgotten my gloves. Their fragile, gnarled look made something ache in my chest.

I stopped in front of the grand levitating statue of Archmage Antonidas. Two figures stood below it. 

“I didn't know if I would get a moment alone with you. With all of your fans…”

“And considering yours,” A familiar female voice replied from the depths of a hooded cloak. 

The blue-headed dragon shook his head slightly, “I don't have fans...not many.” 

“Well...you have me.” Jaina’s cloaked head tilted to the side slightly. When she did so, she finally noticed me. “Archmage!”

The two stiffened in my presence. _They’re worse than my steamy romance novels—I mean, Aethas’ steamy romance novels. Yes, Aethas. That’s what I meant. Wait...why am I trying to be grammatically correct in my own mind?_

I held up a hand and silenced my mental chatter, “It’s _Khadgar_ , Jaina. I apologize for interrupting, I’d like to thank both of you for your service to the Kirin Tor, especially in recent events.”

The two bobbed their heads. Jaina said, “Of course...forgive me for stating this, but you look a little...worn down, Khadgar.”

 _I’ve been this way for years. I think it's becoming my natural state._ “I’m alright. The Kirin Tor is in your debt, Jaina.” 

As the crimson hues of twilight wrapped around her, I caught a glimpse of her pained expression. “I owed them first. For what they did…”

_Theramore. Hunting Arthas. Every member of the Kirin Tor has had a front row seat of the atrocities in Lady Proudmoore’s life._

“Jaina...no one in this city is worthy of what you have given. And if there is anything you require, we will give it to you. No explanation needed.” I said. I held her gaze, enforcing the depth of my words.

Kalec started to nod vigorously. “Right. What he said.”

The Archmage did something unexpected next. Jaina stepped forward, the rush of her actions pulling her hood back, and embraced me tight. Above her head, I saw Kalec’s left eye twitch ever so slightly. 

“Thank you,” Jaina mumbled into my chest. The scent of strawberries and peppermint lingered on Jaina’s robes. My arms hung awkwardly at my sides, and when I tried to raise them, I thought I heard Kalec’s teeth grind against one another. 

“Aye! Look there! The Archmages _are_ dating!” I heard an ecstatic dwarf cry. 

“You owe me fifty silver—I’m sending this to Fairbreeze’s Fables.”

“Who’s that guy with the blue hair over there?”

“Is he a death knight…? One of the stiff ones?”

“Neva seen dat mon before.”

 

~Hours Later, Khadgar’s Quarters~

_And so the pair stood at the top of the bridge, looking over the most magnificent sight of all. But they paid no heed to the breathtaking landscape, they were more bewitched by hungry stares and the longing of the heart. The air was alight with eagerness and tension._

_“May I have this dance?” The woman’s hand reached out like a blooming blossom to moonlight._

_He smiled. “I—"_

“Am I interrupting?” 

I flinched at the knock on my door. The pages of the romance novel fluttered up like a cluster of dandelion seeds. I pushed the book away from me and across the desk as I stood abruptly. “It’s Illidan’s!” 

Eona leaned on the open door, her head tilted to the side. “He’s _blind_. And he doesn't like steamy romance novels, he prefers critiquing religious texts.” 

“Mmm. That...sounds like him,” I mused and softly closed the shameful tome. I ducked as one of the gleaming blue orbs in the room roamed past, like a star from the night sky.

Eona sat criss-crossed on the edge of my bed, frowning slightly as the mattress’ elasticity. I shelved the romance novel and leaned on one of the full bookcases as I faced her.

“How’s your head?”

“Still attached, thanks.” She said. Her nightwear was similar to mine; a simple linen shirt and trousers. My conversation with Turalyon and Alleria reentered my mind. _I suppose she is my daughter in a way. I know I’m not the best parental figure...but at least I never accidentally flung her off the side of a cliff like Kael’thas did._

“I have a stupid question,” Eona admitted. “We got all the prisoners that escaped, right? I’ve just been having a nagging feeling lately, and I can't tell if it's because I hit my head or not.” 

“There are no stupid questions, that’s actually a good one—but Modera said the criminals were taken care of,” I said and sat down on the lavender sheets next to her. “There’s no need for you to worry, you should be resting.” 

“Yeah.” Eona softly blew her copper bangs away from her face. The scratchiness of her voice was so different compared to the other elves I knew. “Is everything else alright with you?”

“I'm recovering,” I sighed and scratched at the stubble along my jaw. “I’ve met with King Anduin a few times for migraines…”

“You saw Anduin?” Eona pretended to be interested with her fingers, but watched me carefully out of the corner of her eye. 

“Yes.”

“Huh. Did he...mention anything interesting?” Eona muttered, playing with the ends of her hair. 

I let myself fall back onto the lavender sheets as my eyebrow rose at her.

She froze. “Not that I care, or anything—I’m a…a um—”

“Rogue?”

“Yes! I’m a rogue and Sylvanas’ personal scout. I'm supposed to be sneaky and keep tabs on people…”

“Mmm.” When I nodded, the soft rustle of the sheets filled my ears. 

Eona stared down at her lap. “I'm being ridiculous…I should probably go and um, be nosy.” 

“That is your job,” I replied. 

A ripple flowed through the mattress when Eona stood. “Right. Good night, Khadgar.” 

“Sweet dreams, Little Murloc.” 

“I'm not a child, I know what those are now. That's not funny anymore.” I tipped my head back to see her softly close the door. 

I lay there alone in the empty room. The blue orbs of arcane that I had summoned for reading light floated silently. I gazed at the star signs engraved on the ceiling, and every now and then, the glyphs would emit a soft glow that caressed my face. 

_Peace and quiet. Two of the rarest elements on Azeroth have found me._

“Don't let the bed bugs bite, you’re mine tonight.” 

My eyes widened. I looked up and screamed as Sael’orn’s bloodstained claws appeared above me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author: Ten thousand years...
> 
> Illidan Stormrage: Your absence lasted nearly twenty days. 
> 
> Author: Close enough! It's been a struggle over here—sorry for the long wait, Awesome Adventurers. I've been fighting off my own Sael'orn, it hasn't been pretty over here. 
> 
> Illidan: Author, I grow restless as you move these chess pieces across the board. When will I be returning to Azeroth?
> 
> Author: Soon!
> 
> Queen Azshara: And when am I supposed to arrive? You waste my time with these peasants!
> 
> Deathwing: I AM FIRE! I AM—hold on, is that my grandson? He really knows how to rock a turban. 
> 
> Author: I'll get to you soon, I promise!! But this is the end of Epoch 3, and the one coming up next is our big event! Epoch 4 is based off an episode of "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina" and I've waited a long time to get to this. A lot of cool stuff is gonna take place, and even if there are some people that haven't been interested in this story, they might want to stay tuned to these next couple of chapters. We will dive into the minds of Khadgar, Wrathion, and Sylvanas, and I think it'll be unlike anything this community has seen before. Hopefully life will stop happening to me and I can make the time to write this!
> 
> Illidan: What is this mess of parchment?
> 
> Author: Sticky notes? WAIT NO STAY AWAY—
> 
> Illidan: *reads the sticky note* Hmm...it seems I have discovered...a spoiler. 
> 
> Author: O.o uh oh. Beware, and love, fortune and glory to you, Awesome Adventurers! 
> 
>  
> 
> PS: I'm sorry for adding more, I'm aware of how lengthy this A/N is, but I have to address this: it's taken me months of failed attempts that you, the people, have had to watch. I finally figured out how to do this stupid ding dong on a mac: —  
> *screams vernacular words to the sky*


	23. "A Cute Golden Retriever" (Epoch IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Learn how to imitate Illidan Stormrage.

~Eona~

My eyes were locked on the slim blade. It teetered in the air, threatening to fall to gravity.

_Stay—stay! Come on! I’m almost past my record!_

I stumbled around my room with my face tipped up towards the ceiling. A knife rocked back and forth on the tip of my nose as I tried to balance it. It was a dangerous hobby that I knew I shouldn't continue, and yet I did it anyway. Azeroth did not know of my true stupidity, and I intended to keep it that way. 

I hit my foot against the edge of the bed. I held in a curse.

_It's slipping! It's slipping—!_

As the dagger wavered, I snapped my head forward and staggered back. The knife clattered to the ground. I straightened, blowing my bangs out of my face as I did so, and glanced in the mirror.

On the tip of my nose, where an X-shaped mark resided, one of the slashes was now red. Blood crept out from the open wound.

“Dammit.” 

I dabbed the small cut with a linen cloth, humming in the silence. I needed a new pastime, like picking up a profession, or working on my music, or—

A ripe scream ripped through the canny atmosphere.

I watched my reflection’s eyes widen. _Khadgar._

My bloody nose was forgotten as I sprinted down the hall. Doors creaked open as I went. I passed Jastor, half-blinded by his sleeping mask. My arms were riddled with gooseflesh when Tyrande Whisperwind shouted at her husband to quit snoring.

I took the stairs three at a time. The screams had stopped, but shouts had replaced it. A shadow passed over me as I descended the steps. I glanced up, shocked to see Sylvanas.

_I haven't seen her in days, not since our awkward lunch. What has she been up to?_

“Strider, what is the disturbance?” Sylvanas was back to her usual cruel formality. I looked up again, but she didn't hold my gaze. 

“I don't know yet. All I heard was screaming.” I said. 

She released a huff of disapproval, another condemnation of the living. We reached the bottom of the steps. Khadgar stood at the end, arms stretched out, in midnight blue trousers. 

“Careful!” He shouted. “Watch for spiders!”

I went to him first. “Are you alright?”

Khadgar’s hair was an untame blizzard of white. A slight tremor passed through his shoulders. “Yes, I—your nose is bleeding.”

A familiar spike of pain stabbed the back of my skull. An echo of tapping filled the chamber. “Uh...tried to...cut toast. Yeah. Nasty business. What happened here?”

Light footfalls carried down the stairs. Unwillingly, I spared a glance at Wrathion. He stroked the small stubble on his chin and his silk embroidered robes sighed at the slightest movement. “Your prisoner has escaped. An _aranasi_ named Sael’orn, my agents say.” 

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, folding my arms over my chest. I wanted to block out his words.

Even Khadgar managed to glance at the Black Prince. “Your _agents?_ ” 

“Of course. I never leave home without them. They’re like those tiny animals that crawl around the glass cages...what are those again?”

“Ants?” Khadgar’s eyebrow rose.

“Enough of this petty squabble.” Sylvanas snapped, glaring at the two. 

Anduin was the last to appear at the top of the stairs. I felt relieved when I saw him, and something else...something thrilling. “Is everyone alright?” 

Khadgar shook his head slightly. “A prisoner has escaped Violet Hold.”

“One of many.” Wrathion murmured.

Anduin’s eyes widened. “How many?”

“Just one.” Khadgar scowled at the Black Prince. “But this prisoner is not to be taken lightly...Sael’orn is a feisty one. She’s venomous, and her spiders are ruthless. We must catch her as quickly as possible—she is more dangerous when her victims are sleeping…”

Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed. Unlike the rest of us, she was dressed in dreary leather armor and shouldered a full quiver. “My days of slumber are over. Where is the prisoner?”

Khadgar’s shoulders slumped. “That’s a fairly good question.” 

My gaze traveled up to the pearlish dome of the main room, searching for a source of the uncanny. I wandered around the room a little and watched closely for the intense throb of _Foreshadowing_ in the back of my skull. “Anything else we should know?” 

“We need to take care of this as quickly as possible. Sael’orn will want revenge on the Kirin Tor—she has the ability to trap people in nightmares when they’re sleeping.”

“That doesn't sound so menacing,” Wrathion commented.

_Spoken like someone who hasn't witnessed the wrath of nightmares—no pun intended._

“Not in the literal sense, but I would not wish that torture upon anyone.” Shadows grew around Khadgar’s eyes. “We cannot let her run rampant.”

I glanced at the main entrance to the Violet Citadel, sealed shut. “Could she escape into the city?”

“No, I already sealed the Citadel—Sael’orn cannot escape here.” Khadgar said. 

My head snapped up. The dull throb of _Foreshadowing_ had awakened in the back of my skull. “Top of the stairwell.” 

My body turned as I said it, holding a knife in my fist. Sylvanas and Khadgar aimed. Wrathion turned his daunting stare upwards. 

The creature named Sael’orn sneered down at us with a mouth full of daggers and yellow slits for eyes. I inhaled sharply as the winglike limbs protruding from her back had the same daunting effect as Illidan Stormrage’s stature. 

Anduin was the last to react, his eyes widening as he staggered down one step. “Oh—erm, excuse me.” 

An arrow from Sylvanas’ bow was the next to reply as it whistled across the room. For a towering creature, Sael’orn dodged with ease and skittered across the walls. 

“Stop her!” Khadgar shouted.

“ _Kill_ her!”

“We don't do that here, Sylvanas!” 

“I don't care!” The Warchief Banshee Queen fired another round of arrows. All of them made new niches in the once-flawless halls of the Violet Citadel.

_I left my gun upstairs. Can rogues do anything from a distance, besides spy?_

Wrathion threw fireballs and Khadgar’s bare hands pulsed with arcane. 

_I only have one knife on me, I can't throw it and miss. Can I be useful at all in this moment—?_

“Left!” I pointed seconds before Sael’orn landed on the floor. _Foreshadowing_ stung like a soprano singer on a high note, but at least I had a role. “The railing!”

Everyone was starting to catch on to my directions. My eyes burned as I watched torrents of Light, arcane, and flames fly by. We had managed a few decent hits. 

Sael’orn glared down at me from the ceiling. The back of my skull erupted with pain. I bit back a gasp and my hands flew to the back of my head.

I could barely glance up as Sael’orn’s shadow fell over me—

The air hissed and popped. Sael’orn’s shadow stretched across the floor, but when I finally managed to glance up, I spotted the true source.

Tendrils of darkness tore through the natural realm of reality and wrapped around Sael’orn’s form. The aranasi shrieked as she plummeted to the ground. 

A hand was still planted at the base of my neck as I studied my companions. Khadgar, Sylvanas, and Wrathion all wore expressions of shock.

Anduin cleared his throat. “My deepest apologies…”

Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed. It was Khadgar who spoke first, “That was...you, Anduin?”

“Yes, I am...I am afraid so.”

_Wait, was that...that shadow magic stuff that priests use? Wow, I really don't know a lot about priests. Don't they use some type of void-thing…? I’ve never seen Anduin wield it before._

“Oh. You have a dark side, Your Majesty.” 

Anduin straightened himself, gathering his composure. “And don't you forget it. Is everyone alright?” 

He stared at me as he uttered the last sentence. I stepped away from the writhing prisoner, shaking my head slightly. “I think I’m good, thanks. What now, Khadgar?” 

“Hmm…” Khadgar stroked his stumbled chin thoughtfully for a moment. Without looking at Sylvanas, he said, “Warchief, please do not unleash that arrow.” 

“Grrr.”

Anduin descended the steps. My stomach did flips and my skin felt all tingly when he finally stood before me. 

“You’re bleeding,” He gestured towards my nose.

I took one look at Andy’s face and was suddenly captivated by every detail. His eyebrows were doing that cute little thing where they scrunched down, looking all serious. I shook myself out of my daze, aware of the two pairs of eyes on me from the stairs, and forced out a response. “Oh—it’s fine, don't worry about it. It’s a small cut, it’s already stopped.” 

Anduin nodded—his eyebrows were still doing the cute thing! Dammit! “How about your head? You looked like you were in pain earlier.”

Instead of blowing my bangs away, I lightly tucked them behind my ear. Khadgar was drawing attention away from us as he spoke about Sael’orn. I should’ve been listening, but I was already entranced by something else. 

“I’m okay, Anduin,” I assured him with a small nod. I held back a wince as the back of my head started to feel sore. _Foreshadowing_ had gone quiet, but pain lingered in my head from the experience of using it. It was a lot worse after hitting it in Violet Hold the other day.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive.” I wanted to ask him about the void-darkness thing, but I bit my lip and remained silent. I didn't feel comfortable discussing anything underneath Sylvanas and Wrathion’s murder stares. 

Andy’s gaze loitered a few seconds longer than necessary. 

_Sometimes when his head tips to the side a little, and his bangs frame his face, Andy really does look like a cute golden retriever._

Anduin’s head dipped to the side even more. Khadgar continued to talk in the background, holding up a weirdly-shaped vase. I really need to pay attention more. 

“Eona...do you know how to talk without moving your lips?” He asked.

“No,” I said, a little unnerved by such a bizarre question. _I can do some impressions though—I’m trying to learn how to mimic Illidan so I can scare the crap out of Maiev Shadowsong one day._ “Why do you ask?” 

Anduin shook his head. “No reason, forgive me…”

We turned back to Khadgar, but I kept peeking at Anduin out of the corner of my eye. “—We’ll trap her in this vase—Cordana gave it to me, it’s quite an eyesore—and we’ll decide what to do with her in the morning.”

Sael’orn protested in snarls and fought against the supernatural grip of the void tendrils. Khadgar uttered a spell and a blue luminescence flickered across his fingertips. Sael’orn’s form morphed into a sand-like material that was sucked into the vase. 

Khadgar hummed with satisfaction, using his hand to plug the entrance. “Alright, now to find a top for this thing and we’ll be Sael’orn-free. Thank you for your assistance, everyone—sweet dreams.” 

Khadgar continued to hum without a care as he trekked back up the stairs.

 _That's it? Just like that?_ I shrugged it off. Our small party dispersed. I missed the chance to speak to Andy as Sylvanas’ eyes seared into me like two white-hot suns. 

I retired back to my room and rubbed off the layer of dried blood. My eyelids suddenly felt very heavy.

I snuggled up beneath the blankets and my assembled mass of pillows. I could’ve sworn I heard a skittering noise before I shut my eyes.

“ _Sweet dreams...at first. Revenge is even sweeter.”_

I thought I caught someone laughing as I drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaina: YOU LET ILLIDAN FIND THE SPOILER CACHE HOW COULD YOU AUTHOR
> 
> Author: Well, it's not as much as a cache as a bunch of notes in my house, but...oopsies?
> 
> Genn: Your kingdom does not have a mote? No wonder you suffered such a crime. 
> 
> Author: NOT ALL OF US CAN OCCUPY A SINGLE PENINSULA, YOUR MAJESTY. We have bigger problems here! 
> 
> Illidan: In my quest to obtain all knowledge, I was not expecting this. Someone trills their tongue inside whom's mouth?
> 
> Author: SHUSH! This is the Deadpool-catastrophe all over again! What can I bribe you with to keep you quiet? 
> 
> Kalec: Wait, we're actually letting him get away with this? 
> 
> Illidan: Who is this blue creature?
> 
> Kalec: ...I'm done. 
> 
> Illidan: I suppose I can come up with a few demands for my silence, Author. 
> 
> Khadgar: This is a horrible idea! 
> 
> Illidan: Just for that comment, Khadgar must wear a murloc onesie. 
> 
> Author: Done. I'd shake on it, but...you have claws...and I'm trying to learn ASL. 
> 
> Kalec: Maybe being invisible is a good thing.
> 
> Khadgar: Yes, lucky you, Kalecgos. Don't bother buying me the murloc costume...I can satisfy that on my own. 
> 
> Wrathion: This is the worst fashion nightmare in the history of Azeroth—and Kalec's been here for centuries. 
> 
> Author: Whew—I hope that's the end of that! Stay tuned Awesome Adventurers, this Epoch's gonna get weird. Love, fortune and glory to you!


	24. "An Army of Vicious Fangirls"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Do not get trampled by the army of angry fangirls.

~Eona, Temple of the White Tiger~

It was a very boring summit meeting. I couldn't recall specific details—I knew Taran Zhu said something wise, and Genn Greymane had grumbled a lot. 

I stood up from my chair next to Jastor in the familiar splinter-ridden chairs as a shadow loomed over me. “Strider!” 

I looked up at my boss, Garrosh Hellscream. I bowed my head with formal respect. “Yes, Warchief?” 

Something didn't feel right as I stared at Garrosh, but I didn't question it. I’d known him since Outland; it was how I got my job as the Warchief’s personal scout. The huge, bronze orc stared me down with his usual intensity. “I received your reports on the bases of Ashenvale. The Horde will honor you for your advanced perception.”

I smiled warmly at him. I felt like it had been years since I heard Garrosh say something nice. “Thank you.”

Garrosh noticed Jastor rising from his seat and a snarl jostled his tusks. “Get back to work!”

My boss stomped off to start yelling at Lor’themar. People were still crowded around the long table; I knew they were there, but I couldn't quite focus on them. As I started walking with Jastor, I bumped into someone. 

“Ey!” Jastor snapped in my defense as half my body turned from the impact. “You mind? We’re walkin’ here, knife ear!” 

My eyes widened. “Maiev? What are you doing here?”

Maiev Shadowsong was dressed in her usual intimidating armor. It was so easy to focus on it now without the gleam of the Outland sky or the green glare of the Broken Isles. The basil-colored fabric of her cloak was identical to my coat.

“I will always be here, _Sunstrider_. Watching you.” Her voice was as demanding now as it was when I was twelve. Before I could say more, Maiev vanished in the sea of blurry faces. Like a mere thought buried in my subconscious, gone from sight, but always there. 

“Ey, Red, you have an admirer,” Jastor mused and nudged my side. 

I turned my body forward again and took in a longer breath than necessary. Anduin’s smile froze me where I was, and Jastor seemed to blend in with the blurry faces off to the side as Andy approached. 

“Eona, can I talk to you?” Anduin asked, his eyebrows scrunching down to communicate his seriousness. 

“Sure,” I said. We stepped to the side, a little farther away from the traffic by the table. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s perfect now,” His smile made my lips curve upwards, and he continued, “I was thinking. Remember when we traveled across Pandaria together? That went well, didn't it?”

“It was a breeze,” I agreed, nodding to him. “Go on.” 

“And then, the moment we separated, things went bad.” Andy said. I knew there was some horrible event that he was talking about, and I knew what it was, but I couldn't quite place it at this moment. 

“And when we were separated again, the Legion returned.” Anduin’s face darkened. _His father died too—and Draenor was killing me on the inside. It was awful._

“What are you saying?” I leaned forward slightly, as if trying to study his beautiful face for an answer.

“Every time we’re apart, disaster strikes. But when we’re together, it's like...it’s like a dream.” Anduin realized, a blush creeping up to his cheeks. 

“I don't want to lose you again. Please...will you be my queen, Eona?” Anduin lightly gathered my hands in his like a delicate bouquet of flowers. A gentle beam of light seemed to bathe Andy in a golden hue. I shivered—not from the temperature, but from that same thrilling feeling from earlier—and my smile grew.

“Yes! Yes—of course I will!” I felt like I was sixteen years old again as I wrapped my arms around Anduin’s neck and pulled him close. I felt an immense mix of warmth and contentment that I hadn't thought was possible. 

~*~

“Don't court this pathetic human, Strider,” Sylvanas tsked away with her lifeless blue lips across the table at some pandaren inn. We were outside, and some stalks of bamboo swayed by the railing, but I couldn't recall the name of the building, or if I had given my order yet. The sky was a breathtaking blue, just like Anduin’s eyes—except for the patch of gray clouds off in the distance. 

Jaina sat next to Sylvanas, a dull look on her face. “This is your revenge on me for dating Kalec, isn't it?” 

“No, it's not,” I remarked, placing my hands on top of the wooden table. “I really like him.”

I was still having trouble recalling details, but the more I tried to think, the more I realized that some of the happiest moments of my life had been with Anduin. Which in a way, was also sad—I had a really crappy life to begin with. 

“Fine, Eona, play out this charade if you wish. Play pretend with this little lion, but mark my words,” Sylvanas leaned in ever so slightly. Her eyes were as red as blood. “Your attempt at duality between factions will kill you, and death will always take what you love. With no mercy.” 

Jaina nodded as she munched on a danish. “You know, it’s almost like there’s a curse with attractive blond princes. I fell in love with Arthas and look at me now—wasn’t your mom engaged to Kael’thas and that ended badly?”

“That wasn't his fault.” I pressed my lips together as their cautionary tales threatened to ruin my mood. “Anduin’s not going to become an arcane addict, or snap one day and kill hundreds of people.”

“But he will be _gone_ one day.” Sylvanas looked down her nose at me, so similar to a notched arrow. “He will be taken from you. And you will spend eternity with his fading memory.”

Jaina’s head tilted to the side. “Do you _really_ like Anduin? Are you willing to deal with everything that could go wrong?”

“Yes.” My voice was strong, and my tone was final. 

A grin splashed across Jaina’s face. “Welcome to the family.”

Sylvanas continued to stare silently. 

~*~

The lanterns hung above my Adult Sanctuary gave off a soft, warm glow that bathed the floor of mattresses and pillows with a pinkish hue. I was in my woolen sweats that were now a faded blue and a hole resided at the bottom of my shirt. Anduin’s head lay upon my chest, one hand held up a book he was skimming, the other traced my face with soft strokes that left me dizzy. One of my crystals was stowed somewhere in the dunes of blankets, playing soft music. Everything was perfect.

“I could send my mom a letter asking about the dwarves,” I offered, tousling Andy’s hair a little as I gave him a head scratch. 

“Mmm, that feels nice. Would she be alright with that?”

“Are you kidding? My only fear is if we ask, she’ll send you back dozens of pages,” I leaned into Andy’s touch as he caressed my cheek, “I don't think anyone can say no to you, _Your Majesty_.” 

His hand froze against my skin. Anduin discarded the history novel and rose slightly so his face hovered over mine. Andy mumbled dorky seductive things and peppered kisses across my cheeks as I giggled. Finally he dove for my lips and my legs clenched around his waist. 

It felt like years since I had felt Anduin’s lips. I never realized how much I loved it—and the intense, almost overwhelming _longing_ that I had been ignoring in the absence of his kisses. And as my body was pressed against his, melting into his warmth, I was at ease. 

Anduin twisted my bangs with his fingers, making me gasp against his mouth.

“You taste— _mmph_ —like lotus root buns,” Andy mumbled against my lips. 

“Aren't those your favorite?” I asked as my tongue flashed across his mouth.

Our lips finally broke apart with a loud smacking noise. Andy’s nose brushed against mine as he nodded. “Does that mean I'm crazy?”

“Maybe. Am I crazy if I said that makes me hungry?” I wondered.

“Have you eaten enough today?”

“I think so.” I squinted as I tried to remember what I had eaten. I could barely recall anything—was it because I recently visited Suck-Face Land? “I'm not sure. I'm having trouble remembering things.”

Anduin kissed the scar on my nose as he sat up. “What would you like?”

“I have a feeling that you and chocolate syrup aren't really a nutritious combo, so I might need a minute to think of something.” I pinched my bottom lip with my two fingers as Anduin stood and disappeared into a different part of my house. 

“I think we can make some Desperate Mornings,” Anduin called out. Something didn't feel right. Things were perfect— _too_ perfect. That meant two things: I was hallucinating this in a hysterical coma, or I was in for a wave of harsh reality. 

To my distaste, the second happened first. 

My head snapped up as the door slammed open and Khadgar limped inside. The side of his face was dripping with blood.

“Khadgar!” I shuffled out of the sheets to him. Khadgar’s robes were ripped and turning a dark hue of purple in some areas. His face looked frail and ghostly, and it horrified me. 

“Khadgar, what happened—?”

“It's too late,” Khadgar gasped, leaning his arms on my shoulders for support. “You did this.”

Khadgar collapsed by the table in the center of the house, unmoving. I raised a hand tentatively to my shoulders where his had been. My fingers were stained red. 

_I did this._

My fingers blurred a little when I stared. Only then did I realize it was because I was shaking.

Anduin was back, pulling my hand to him as he studied my crimson-coated fingers. I slowly looked to the entrance, to my lawn outside.

I descended the steps, staring at the battlefield that was now my lawn. I was grabbing my hair and tugging it back in fistfulls as I listened to the harsh sounds of fighting. Parts of the once-green lawn were on fire. Pandaria, a place of peace, was now home to chaos. 

I knew most of the bodies I passed in my daze of delirium. I witnessed Baine fall before Malfurion, and Go’el quickly took his place.

I made it to the street. The scorch marks seemed to carry on. When I looked down the road, my breath caught.

“Genn, what the hell! I know you never liked me, but you’re taking this too far!”

Genn charged forward, leading an army of vicious fangirls—yes, that sounds ridiculous, but they wore masks of fury as they waved their swords, and their shouts were bloodthirsty. 

“KILL THE HALF-BREED! SHE SMELLS!” Genn moved swiftly for an older man. 

“STOP!”

Anduin held up a hand against Genn. The army of fangirls obeyed, but they continued to sneer. Anduin turned to me.

“I started this.” He said.

“This isn't your fault, Andy—”

“It was a mistake.”

The remark stung more than poison running through my veins. 

“This was not meant to be,” Anduin said in the glow of the flames that danced across my lawn. “This love was not worth it.”

I swallowed. “I thought it was.” 

“And you were wrong.” Sylvanas’ voice penetrated the atmosphere. She stood next to Anduin, a knife glinting in her hand. “I warned you, Strider. Remove her from my sight.” 

“No,” When I tried to move, two undead pulled me back. One was a She-Rogue, the other an alchemist with black leather stitching across his jaw. “No, Sylvanas no, please—”

I was dragged back as Sylvanas raised her knife.

“Anduin!” 

I was thrown back through a portal and stumbled across the red sand. Anduin’s face haunted my mind and it took awhile to realize where I was.

I was stranded on Outland. Alone. 

“ _You murdered the other prisoners held against their will in Violet Hold,”_ I heard a new voice. It didn't echo or hang in the air like a regular voice; it vibrated through my mind. 

“ _Tell me the spell to leave this place, and I will release you from this suffering!”_ I recognized the voice: Sael’orn. 

I shook my head as I sunk down into the dry, lifeless sand. The sky was an inky black that went on forever. “I don't know.” 

“ _Then maybe this will jog your memory.”_

The sand erupted into green flames next to me. I looked to the horizon, where an army of the Legion now stood. And I ran, screaming into the void, as I was trapped in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome to the first part of our nightmare chapters! How are we liking it so far?
> 
> Eona: I prefer Suck-Face Land with Anduin over my Lawn From Hell.
> 
> Khadgar: I'm beginning to feel a little worried...I miss reality. 
> 
> Author: A couple of housekeeping things: I've gone through ALL stories and I've fixed our dash problem, so I don't continue to scar others (again, my deepest apologies on my lack of technology skills). I also have some other news: our prequel, Mists of the Past, is being rewritten! At first I just wanted to tweak the first chapter so it wouldn't mess with the lore, but I did write it when I was still sort of figuring things out, and you guys deserve an upgrade, so eventually I will post a rewrite as a separate story (might keep the old one on here just to look at). But you guys know me: I'm not going to bore you by repeating the same thing, this rewrite will have some differences. But if you don't want to read it, it won't change anything here. Just so you guys know what's going on c:
> 
> Author: I do have some comments on this piece, but I don't want to bore you with another long A/N. Wrathion is up next, let's give him a round of applause!
> 
> Wrathion: ...
> 
> Wrathion: Erm, Author...dear, ravishing Author...perhaps you could skip me—
> 
> Author: No dice. 
> 
> Wrathion: *grumbles* She used to be so nice, it was all an act! That Deadpool fellow was right.
> 
> Author: Pardon?
> 
> Wrathion: N-nothing! Love, fortune and glory to you, dear adventurers! (help me!)
> 
> Author: See you in the next chapter! (no one can save you now c:)


	25. "Your Order of Death, Seasoned with Destruction, and a Side of Melancholy"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest Objective: Win the game.

~Wrathion, the Veiled Stairs~

“The objective of the game is for both players to win,” Anduin leaned over the Jihui board with a contemplative gaze. He possessed the black pieces; I reigned over the red. I slid the back of my talon across my jaw as I concentrated. 

 _Anduin has good intentions, but he is blinded by his naivety. This is a world of savagery, of chaos. The all-powerful beings that watch over it_ claim _they know what is best. They are destroying Azeroth! And no other can possess such comprehension than I._

“Mmm,” I reached out and moved one of my pieces. “An intriguing concept, but it’s realistic quality lies askew.”

“Realistic quality?” Anduin shook his head. I couldn't help but stare as the golden strands fluttered about his face like flirting rays of sunlight. “I disagree. I don't think that was what the game’s creators had in mind. I think that it’s an implication of morals; it encourages compassion.”

My lip curled up slightly. _Morals? How far will that get you in this world?_

“Morals are binding. The Mogu were the most powerful conquerors of Pandaria: they ruled the entire continent—”

“And they fell.” Anduin recalled from his research, fingering one of his black pieces. “When we first met...we had something in common. We had a fascination with freedom. But lately you seem more concerned with power.” 

I heard murmurs of conversation in the bar below. I could not recall the name of where we were for the life of me, even though I knew it was of great significance. 

“With power comes _freedom_.” I remarked, claiming one of his pieces.

“Not always.” Anduin said. “With power comes _responsibility_.” 

Someone cleared their throat, establishing their presence. When I acknowledged the newcomer, Fahrad was bowed low. “My prince, I have some news that you might find...pleasing.” 

“Oh?” I took a brief moment to study Fahrad. It felt like years since I had seen him last. The mischievous green eyes, the complicated pattern of dark leathers he adorned. Something about his presence settled beneath my skin.

“The remains of the Black dragonflight on Outland have answered your call; they will return, guided by you. They are...welcoming, of your new reign, and will work quickly to meet your demands.” 

“They...respect me?” I said. _They accept me? My title...my blood…?_

Anduin chuckled. “I think everyone does. You have quite a commanding presence.”

I felt warmth on my face. I gracefully stood from my chair. The game had just begun. “Very well. We will take action; I have plans for Azeroth.”

Fahrad smirked. Oh, how long has it been since I’ve seen that glimmer in his eyes…? I could not recall. But it did not matter. _I_ was in control of Azeroth’s destiny. _I_ was in control of _my_ destiny.

~*~

I stood somewhere I was not familiar with. The walls were...hazy, as if the image was formed by my own imagination. But I knew my thoughts well enough to name this establishment.

Wyrmrest Temple. 

The netherwing drakes fanned out across the top platform of the magnificent sanctuary. I could reach out and touch the horizon, the sky, the limitless possibilities. What a thrilling feeling!

“Cross the Old Gods off the list…” Eona walked by, her usual half-skip as she counted off her fingers. “The elements are tame—I think Thrall is jealous. Oh, you have more letters.” 

Eona offered me sealed envelopes, crinkling in the wind. The head of a lion was embedded in the wax. _Anduin._

“Or should I say _love_ letters.” 

The statement caught me off guard. There was a...fluttering in my chest. Like wings ruffling in my ribcage. And there was warmth. 

There was no malice in Eona’s emerald eyes as I took the noisy parchment. Netherwing drakes released strange cries of delight as they circled the tall sanctuary. All around me, the landscape was eternal winter. Pure white. Glistening like piles of gold. I took it as a good omen. 

I strode to the edge of the platform and slowly let my arms rise at my sides. The wind caressed my face, kissed the tips of my talons. I felt the breeze relieve me of my turban, and opened my eyes just as the bundle of fabric fell from the terrace like a bird in flight. 

My jeweled slippers stopped at the very edge. 

Lights danced across the sky, like they were summoned by Anduin’s own hand. The sky was wide, beckoning...and the ground was too far to imprison me. 

I took a step forward. I did not fall.

I flew.

I felt bones crunch and stretch. Skin thickened and smoothed. It was a metamorphosis that butterflies would envy. My wings opened wide and embraced the horizon. 

With one single flap, I commanded the wind. I went upward, seizing the endless blue as I ascended. Then I turned sharply.

I landed on the top of Wyrmrest Temple, hearing the drakes below me roar their admiration. 

I sat on top of the world, upon my own throne. 

~*~

“Does this make you king of the world now?” Anduin gestured about the top chambers of Wyrmrest Temple. He was visiting, a welcome surprise. A Jihui board lay in the center of the room, where we both sat. 

“I am a prince— _the_ Prince,” I corrected him. “Kingship belongs to you and Vol’jin.” 

_How comes something feels amiss about the Shadowhunter? I know something happened to the blue fellow, but I cannot recall…_

“And yet, it always feels like you have the upper hand.” Anduin’s eyebrows formed an implying shape as I claimed one of his pieces.

I allowed myself a short chortle as I moved one more piece. I had won the game. “But everyone wins.”

“Yes.” One of Anduin’s hands slid across the edge of the table. It rested upon mine. “Everyone wins.” 

The pandaren innkeeper, Tong, arrived with drinks. It felt out of place, seeing the jolly pandaren here of all places...I knew it was highly unlikely for him to be here. But he was real, as far as I could tell, as he set two mugs on our table. 

“Your highness,” Tong bowed his head as he addressed me.

“Yes, Tong?”

“Your next order will be arriving soon.”

I frowned. “What order?”

Tong laughed, and crossed an invisible line as he clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Your order of death, seasoned with destruction, and a side of melancholy. Enjoy!”

“ _What?_ ” 

My eyes widened as I stared at the innkeeper. He was sweating profusely. His fur was dripping with water, and I could bet Anduin could hear Tong’s heavy breaths with just his mortal hearing.

I raised a hesitant finger. “Tong, are you—”

The pandaren burst into flames. This wasn't a simple fire; it was a raging inferno. Fire rose up like a phoenix, consuming the chilly air and spitting out a familiar smell.

The smell of burning flesh. The stench of death. 

Tong leapt away from my touch—no, it was Tong no more, this was a fire demon running rampant. And it flung itself from the terrace.

Two emotions I was not fond of swelled in my chest. Confusion...and terror. I raced to the edge of the platform, looking down upon the world…

My haven of pearlish hills and light skies was gone. Now, the snow was soaked in blood. In other places, the rocky ground could be seen, riddled with bones and corpses and flames and other treacherous things that accompanied the Underworld. 

“How’s the view, your highness?” 

My gaze snapped to Fahrad. His smirk made me uneasy. There was something about him...something I couldn't remember, but I knew I could not place my trust with him. I could not place trust in anyone. Trust was a myth, a weak sentiment encouraged by mortals. 

“How did this happen?” I waved my arm out at the wasteland. Torn Alliance and Horde banners were still. There was no wind, no comfort. 

Fahrad’s eyebrows scrunched together and he tossed a glance at the corrupted abyss. “Everything looks fine to me. This is what you wanted, wasn't it? Azeroth is saved, you made sure of that.”

“Saved!” I spat the word back at him. “How could you even use such a—”

I pointed at him with an accusing talon, but something even more bizarre happened. Fahrad did not burst into flames like Tong did. His form crumbled, turning in on itself, until it dissolved into flaky black specs. 

Fahrad turned to ash. 

I shook my head at the emptiness. “No...no! This cannot be true! I set out to save Azeroth! I am not mad! I did what had to be done! I am not mad! I cleared my name! My destiny is _mine_ — _I am not my father_!” 

A weak cough followed at the end of my speech. 

I did not want to turn around. I had seen enough. I had seen enough for a lifetime and more. I was afraid of what would happen to me if I turned...if my sanity would flee me like a courage-filled captive. 

Forced by a will beyond mine, I turned to face the Jihui board. 

“You said you were going to save Azeroth.” 

I walked toward him. My throat was closing up—was I ill? Dying? If I did die, did that mean all of this would be over?

“Trust, morals...you said none of it mattered.”

I staggered to my knees. My vision blurred before my eyes—I must’ve been dying. There could be no other explanation. 

“You said chaos ruled this world...and you were right.”

I reached out with one tentative hand. Ash flakes fell before me in a neat pile. 

I closed my eyes, releasing a raspy breath. The weight of the world pressed down on my shoulders. Like a prison. 

 _“Poor immortal. Trapped forever in this nightmare...trapped, as I am, in these walls!”_ A voice hissed.

My hands flew to my head. My curls had rebelled into a wild mess, and I didn't care to fix it. “Trapped, yes. Trapped in here...forever.” 

_Trapped in blood. Trapped in red. Always red._

_“Tell me how to leave this citadel, and I will release you from this torment!”_ Some angry, putrid voice snarled. Was it me? I didn't know.

I started to laugh. The joyous sound echoed across the prison of decay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi Awesome Adventurers! I hope things are well. This one took forever, but I wanted it to be good, I hope it was enjoyable.
> 
> Anduin: I'm sensing a pattern here :/
> 
> Kalec: Suddenly, I think I like being invisible. It has it's pros. 
> 
> Wrathion: Go brag to someone else, Jaina's personal minion!
> 
> Arthas: I didn't say anything. 
> 
> Author: I was really excited to write about Wrathion—ever since I decided to write about WoW, I knew I wanted Wrathion in this. He is a very complex character, a master manipulator. And he's barely a decade old! His brain is like half god, half child. Can you imagine what goes on in that? Badass. Anyway, I hope this chapter did him justice. I know there was probably more that I could've done with this, but this is as far as my mind can grasp of him at the moment.  
> Also, more fun stuff! With all of this angst, we have something coming up that might brighten up your day. The first few chapters of the "Mists of the Past" rewrite go live tomorrow. I know I said you didn't have to read them, but I was surprised at how good it turned out, it's much more fleshed out than our original prequel. And Eona and Anduin actually have chemistry in this book. If you'd like to check it out, stay tuned tomorrow for its release!  
> That's about all we have over here, take care Awesome Adventurers! Next up in the nightmare nightcap is Khadgar! Yay!
> 
> Khadgar: ...
> 
> Khadgar: This is the Nethershard karma all over again. 
> 
> Modera: Author, isn't it a little rude to pick on old men?
> 
> Khadgar: ;-; Eat my robes, Modera!!
> 
> Author: Sorry for the wait! See you guys next time, love, fortune and glory to you!!


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